Soldier
by cheskie
Summary: A JOHN CENA FIC. Your time is up...my time is now.
1. A Big Bombshell

A/N: Ok, so this is how the system goes. I turned WWE into two college facilities, Springville (SmackDown!), and Red River (RAW). The principal of both these schools is Vince McMahon, and I turned the whole wrestling roster into football clubs, while the Divas are their cheerleaders. I hope this isn't confusing.

Also, this story consists of John Cena's POV. So, expect some sarcastic comments from him. And of course, there are OCs involved. Feel free to give your opinions, since any kinds of reviews are warmly received. (generouz!)

The following events happened a few days before the RAW and SmackDown! Draft lottery. If you didn't watch it, that's not my problem. (LOL) Figure it out.

_**From the desk of Principal McMahon**_

_(Note to professors: Please read in homeroom.)_

_Good morning, students!_

_I have outstanding news to share with you on this beautiful Monday. As a way of celebrating the 20th anniversaries of Springville and Red River, we're going to have ourselves a good old-fashioned lottery. All the lists of the SC Eagles and the RRC Lions, including the cheerleading club, will be carried by the football team managers. For example, if a team manager picks someone from the list of the other school's football club, that someone will stay with the designated team for the rest of the school year. This will take place next week at Thursday night in the Board of Directors office before the clock strikes twelve. In the meantime, if any of you would like to know more information, we'll have counselors on campus for the next few days._

_On a less enthusiastic note, I want to remind you all that smoking in the bathrooms is a good way to get suspended. Just don't do it._

_Also, the SC Eagles and the RRC Lions will be playing the very first game against each other of the season on Friday, after the draft lottery night. I urge you all to turn out and support your new and improved team next week._

__

They can't see me. But I can see them. All of them.

I spent most of my time in high school maintaining winning streaks in every football game with the team. I was only sixteen back then, and I already started carrying weights. I remembered way back when I took off my helmet to gloat on my field debut. I didn't know that I left some girls drooling in their bleachers.

Not that I didn't like girls. I would date anyone but bimbos.

In case you're wondering about his football stuff that I'm talking about, I'm an athlete. Because of that I earned this college football scholarship when I was still in varsity. But ever since I tried out as a so-called amateur last summer training here in Springville College, I heard all of them say, "Oh, he's just another pretty boy who got lucky. Oh, he probably can't run or throw a ball to save his life and he probably doesn't even know it. Oh, with all the unused space in his ears, he could make a killing in real estate." They said it all—all the crap that I could hear. Once an underdog, always an underdog, they say.

But I'm a man. And I don't back down to anyone. That's the only thing that I would hate: being stepped on without doing anything. I told myself I'm going to show them. And yet I always end up shoving it up their asses.

So here I am now, a freshman of SC. Before I knew it, at the very first game of this season, I was joined in the startup list. I made the touchdown (they call it the legendary wild pass), and we, the SC Eagles, won the first game of the season. Now I became the fastest rising football star, one of the most popular guys in the campus, one of the most everything.

Tsk. I don't get people. One minute, they treat you like garbage, the next they'll pick you right back up and turn you into an unfinished project.

I didn't care. As long as I'm popular and all the eyes were on me, might as well just milk it. As long as they stay away from my private life. Because people don't see me the way I see them.

This morning, I happened to have woken up early and got down to eat breakfast, but when I reached the common room of the dormitory, this striking yellow paper on the bulletin board caught my attention. And that was when I lost my appetite. I was already on the edge when I read the final paragraphs.

A draft lottery? This was a bombshell! Everyone was going to be talking about it.

"A draft lottery, eh?" a voice behind me said. "That bastard."

I turned my head around and saw a burly looking sophomore behind me, shaking his head slowly. Noticing his muscular build, I recognized him easily. It was Rob Van Dam of the Red River College Lions. What the hell was he doing here?

"What are you staring at?" he asked when he finally noticed me. "You're not even dressed yet."

He was all neat and dressed up for the day, his shoulder length light brown hair tied in a ponytail. He looked so clean and immaculate that I suddenly wished _I_ dressed up.

"None of your business," I replied bluntly. The last thing I wanted was to have this guy ruining my morning. I prepared to leave when he spoke up again.

"Sad, isn't it? Our manager Eric Bischoff must be jumping for joy right now."

"Yeah? Well you never have seen _our _manager Paul Heyman yet."

"Ah, I know all about you guys," Rob said good-humoredly. "Heck, I know all about you alone."

"What the hell are you saying?" I asked, glaring at him. There was nothing funny about this.

"One of the academically active students, the Eagles' quarterback, and the resident heartthrob of Springville," he prompted. "You're John Cena, right?"

I have had it. "I'm outta here."

I walked briskly up to the staircase, but Rob only smiled. "Nice meeting you. Hope you get drafted to our team."

Believe me; I would have punched the guy if I wasn't almost to the next floor, so I just looked down on him angrily. "To hell with you," I spat.

I didn't wait for his reply. I just ran to my room and slammed the door. For me, talking to a member of our rival team was no picnic. They think way too highly of themselves and just look down on us like dirt. That is how and what I think of them, anyway.

Remembering I was only wearing sleep clothes, I slipped it off of me and I put on a navy windbreaker and faded throwbacks, and grabbed a black sun visor out of my cap collection. I slid my feet into my size 15 Reeboks and washed my face in my bathroom sink, calming down a little. This is one of the great things in college. You'll spend your year in a high-class dormitory the whole year, and also, you can choose on whether you want to have a roommate or not. I chose not having a roommate, for the fact that I don't like anyone touching my stuff.

Grabbing my very own padlock chain necklace hanging on the foot of my bed, I walked to the full-length mirror and surveyed my image. I ruffled my short brown spikes before positioning the visor in my head. To finish the touch, I put the necklace on, the heavy padlock resting on my chest.

People always told me that I'm really good looking and I must be really blessed, on the contrary, the word _good looking seemed_ far away for me. I hated my looks. Always did. My cheekbones are way too high, my chin's way too long, my mouth's way too wide, or my skin's seemed so pale. My eyes were the only features I could count on, piercing and blue, like turquoise.

I shrugged and tore myself away form the mirror, finally getting out of my room. I noticed few students staggering slowly in the hall, yawning.

When I went back down the common room, Rob Van Dam was gone. Like I care.

As I went out the dormitory grounds, I breathed in the fresh morning air as I joined other students already walking to the school campus, while others still lingered by the benches.

"Hey thugger! Aren't you gonna wait for us?" a voice called behind me.

I looked behind me to see the familiar faces of Rey Mysterio and Eddie Guerrero walking towards me. Both of them were childhood friends from their own Spanish communities, and both of them are from the football club too. I met them both last summer, and none of of us hit it off easily, but I enjoy their company. We all earned tons of fans this season, and we've never separated since then. Oh, and did I tell that Rey and Eddie are both sophomores? Yeah...

"Didn't see you yesterday," I said as soon as we reached the quad. "Where were you two?"

Rey let out a nervous laugh, brushing his jet black hair out of his gray eyes. "We didn't mean to leave you behind, man. Eddie's just been aching to see his girlfriend. He's been whining for a week, you know."

I faced Eddie. He has a new do, dark brown hair highlighted with blond streaks in perfectly waxed spikes above his head, and his usually cheeky grin was plastered on his face, always saying he's up to no good.

"Would you blame me if I wanna see Vicky now?" Eddie objected, referring to a girl that he met on RRC. "Don't worry, _holmes._ Rey slept at our home and we came here with my low rider. Anything wrong with that, _esse?_"

I only rolled my eyes and shifted my visor a little lower. "Well, stop it. I don't want you acting all swoony and everything."

I didn't really know what's really wrong with me. These emotional highs and lows must be getting through. Or maybe it was because of the good for nothing SOB just irritated me this morning. I seriously need an attitude adjustment.

"You look unusually red, though," said Rey, looking more closely at me. "Anything wrong, little man?"

I considered telling them about my meeting with Rob Van Dam this morning, then decided against it. Red River was nothing but a bunch of brawlers.

"Nothing," I said instead. "Just had a nightmare before waking up."

Eddie suddenly both gripped my shoulders, turning me around to face him. "Snap out of it, _esse_! You're much too serious! You don't want your boyish good looks turn into wrinkles and drive the _mama sitas_ away, don't you?"

I snorted. "Ladies are no problem to me."

"Try no more, Eddie," Rey said, giving Eddie a significant look. "He'll be like that all morning, no doubt. But when he sees Paul Heyman, he'll start up blabbing all over again."

Both of them were smiling like demented Cheshire cats, and I couldn't help thinking how funny they look. Annoying the Eagles' general manager Paul Heyman was my favorite hobby. "You morons," I said, my mouth starting to twitch in beginnings of a smile.

Eddie and Rey wrapped their arms around my shoulders. "That's our asshole."

I grinned crookedly. "Thanks. I needed that."

Since the three of us never separated from summer until now, good things started happening. I got the quarterback position, Rey was now the goal kicker, and Eddie became the king of the field—the center of the team.

Not only that, these guys both knew how miserable my past was, and that going to college was only a push to make me forget all that. Seeing Eddie having a girlfriend or Rey being as cool and karmic in any situation made me feel even much more of a loser than before. But being the good friends that they are, they understood my personal life, and not telling it to anybody added a point in my chalkboard.

I was so lost with thought that we were already inside the school boundaries. There were nerds exchanging math equations, bimbos giggling at passerby's, while the Goths settled themselves at the outdoor benches, a cloud of smoke surrounding them.

"You'll attend football practice, right?" Rey asked me.

I nodded. "Sure. Don't start without me."

Rey started proceeding to the other direction, Eddie lagging behind him. "Yeah. And don't start with us."

A small smile flitted across my face before I walked to my locker, grabbing my backpack and a few books. Sighing, I approached my first class before the bell rang, preparing myself for another day of torture.

(t.b.c.)

Phew. Chapter 1 over, the next ones will be hot off the grill.

Also, please tell me if my English (and Spanish) sucks. I'm not a very good writer, you know.

Penge reviews ha? Salamat!


	2. The Professional Kiss Ups

**-A huge thank you to those who reviewed, especially to mitchy, you've been a very good classmate. Salamat sa di-panalalait! (Gives chocolates to everyone)**

**-I give you…Chapter 2! Enjoy!**

"Watch out!" I heard Rey yell.

I snapped out of my trance and saw the football coming towards me. The pebbled surface of the ball smacked my forehead as I landed flat on the grass, covering my face with my hands. I heard heavy steps shaking the ground I was lying on and knew it was my teammates.

Rey held my arm, pulling me back up to my feet. "You all right, John? How are you feeling?"

"Fan-bloody-tastic," I replied listlessly. My other teammates snickered until I gave them "the look" that shut them up immediately. I approached Eddie, panting from all that running he's been doing.

"Can I sit out? Just for today?"

Eddie drawn his thick brows together, wiping his face with a hand towel. "Why? Are you feeling sick or something?"

I shook my head. "No. Just not in the mood to practice today, that's all."

Eddie merely stared at me before he shrugged; a sign of defeat. "Go ahead. But just for today. You have to be there on the away game against the RRCs, _holmes_."

I nodded before walking off. "I know. I'll be there."

Lazily slumping on a nearby bleacher, I watched as the football team started practicing on the SC football field. Practice playing is what I usually crave on my daily schedule, but I guess I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But everyone knew how well _I _play. I ought to cut everyone some slack until game night.

Whipping my head to the opposite direction, I made out two people walking towards me. One was tall, bald, and wearing sunglasses and the other one was short and skinny. Wearing dark suits and high-cut Chuck Taylors made me notice who they really were.

"Ah! If it isn't the hunky commentators of the SC campus, Tazz and Cole!" I quipped. Michael Cole shook his head, while Peter Senercha a.k.a. Tazz laughed and gave me a high-five. "Wazzup seniors? You wanted to see me?"

"No. Paul Heyman does." Cole answered.

I sat up a little straighter. "What did I do now?"

"Oh, you didn't do anything," said Tazz. "Just wanna talk to you regarding Lesnar's kick out from the team. I heard he expelled himself from this school, too."

Lesnar?

Oh! Brock Lesnar the stupid jock? _That _Lesnar?!

I've seen the man last summer training, former MVP and the center of the team the previous year before. Because of low mid-term scores and a red-marked permanent record, Principal McMahon kicked him off the team. It was a waste, of course, the team lost a good player, but I never really liked him. Because of too much humiliation, he expelled himself, at least that's what the rumors had told me. After that, Paul Heyman begrudgingly made Eddie our center, after all those months completely kissing up to his cellulite ass.

"Am I needed that much?" I began to whine. "I didn't even see him yet."

"You really need to," Tazz insisted. "Heyman's waiting for you in his office. He couldn't wait to talk to you about your behavior, too."

"What's wrong with _my_ behavior?" I asked incredulously.

"Not that there's anything wrong with it..." Cole said with a chuckle. "If you like, I'll take him to you,"

"No need to, Michael Cole," a pitchy voice said behind him.

I glanced at the person standing behind Cole, giving me a look saying that I'm in trouble. Perfect. Last thing I wanted was a confrontation with our pain-in-the-and-ass-one-of-a-kind general manager Paul Heyman.

Cole and Tazz already scurried off like frightened rats. Why, in God's name, would they be afraid of this asswipe? Paulie's so fat he even has the courage to wear a suit that's gonna look like it'll explode any second. The suit's neckline was so tight that his second chin was jutting out, his pony tailed black hair was greasy, and he's going bald due to oldness. Eew.

I smirked as Heyman glared at me. "What do you want, big hips?"

Heyman clenched his fists on his sides, but he managed to speak anyway. "The rumors are indeed true. Not only did Brock Lesnar make that unnecessary expulsion from the team last summer, he also said that he never wanted to see your faces again."

My smirk ratcheted up a notch. What a baby.

"I think I've just lost myself a good player," he continued. "But for you John, I'm sensing this is a big opportunity for you to face fame."

"Ooh, so you have a vision?" I said sarcastically. "Fill me in, Paulie."

"My vision tells me, when I happened to pick a player from RRC, I'll be able to mold him into whatever form I wanted him to be. The football club, the cheerleading squad, even the general managers are included. I'm telling you now, no one is safe," Heyman smiled sardonically. "The draftees will be loyal to none other than Paul Heyman."

I frowned. "What gibberish are you yapping about? I thought we're gonna talk about something."

Heyman looked straight back at me. "Now that you told me that, maybe we _will_ talk. Let me make it clear to you so your single-cell brain will be able to handle it."

My eyes twitched. He did not just say that.

Heyman went closer in front of me, fuming. "All I wanted to say is that I want nothing more than to get you off this team, you inconsiderate piece of Boston crap!"

As soon as Heyman said those words, he automatically slapped me in the face.

Remember the thing I said that I really hated being stepped on? That's what's exactly what this poor excuse of a creature was doing to me. Believe me; you don't wanna make me angry. You'll regret it.

I heard warning bells inside my head and the color red flashed across my eyes. I felt the stinging sensation in my cheek burning even stronger. Heyman looked frightened, so he prepared to slap me again.

Bad move, though.

Before Heyman's hand even reached my face, I immediately caught his wrist and started twisting it. His chin quivered as if _he_ was the one who was slapped. Onlookers started to fuss around. Even the football team noticed us.

All that I know is, my human subconscious left, taken over by an evil minion of Satan as I pushed our very own manager flat on the grass and started to punch him continuously. He tried to cover his face, while I did the dirty work.

"All right, Cena! Stop it right now!" Kurt Angle announced in booming voice. Eddie and Rey both grabbed my arms, pulling me away from Paul Heyman and letting him run away. I glared at the pomp that bothered me with disbelieving eyes.

"Beat it, lumpy, or you're gonna—"

"Gonna what?" Angle interrupted. "I'm telling you, Cena. Your recklessness would always lead you to suspension, and that's what I'm gonna do to you right now."

What the hell?! "Well, you have no right—"

"Oh yes, _I _have the right!" he interrupted again. "I'm the team captain, for Christ's sake. Suck it up, why don't you?"

Oh, I'm not telling you who his guy is yet. The name's Kurt Angle, the bulb headed team captain of the SC Eagles. The kind who always follows the rulebook and the absolute teacher's pet. And yeah, he was a real honor student proven by the gold medals he always carries around, and he won a football game back in his high school with a frickin' broken neck. If only he wasn't our team captain and didn't have the school's Board of Directors tying him on a leash, I would have strangled the man to death.

"You better go now, John," Eddie whispered behind me. "Angle looks serious."

I turned to Rey, and he only nodded, his eyes saying the same thing.

Cursing, I grabbed my gym back and went past Angle. "Fuck you, you hypocrite." I sneered.

Angle started to yell out obscenities to name a few, but they were all drowned from the laughter of the crowd pelting on my back. I'm the one who was supposed to be the furious one for suspension, and he's getting all amped up from my insult. What an idiot.

Being suspended is just fine with me, but Angle would better not let me sit out on the away game against the RRC Lions. He'll be getting it, I swear.

I headed back to the dorm. Maybe there's something on TV.

(t.b.c.)

**Push the little button down below. You know what to do.**


	3. Draft Lottery Insights

**-I want to give a shout-out to my buddies at Yahoo for giving me the real names of the WWE Superstars! Thanx! (gives chocolates)**

By the time school was over, I decided to go out and get a quick bite. I settled at the famous college hangout, The Danger Zone, a combination pizza place and video arcade where both the SC and RRC students always gather after every winning game of our seasons, but luckily things were pretty tame this afternoon. I pushed through the revolving door and saw several junior high were playing arcade games, and the others were talking and laughing happily. Kids were running around, their tokens dropping on the red marble floor.

"J! Hey J! Over here!" someone shouted.

I scanned the arcade and spotted Rey waving me over. I nodded across the sea of heads and started walking toward that way.

The stereos hung up at the sides of the huge room blasted rock music, making the noise around me as deafening as it is. The Danger Zone was a big barn of a room, with arcade games lining the walls and the dining tables crammed at the center. I threaded my way through the passing people, and even in that bedlam, I still heard my name.

"The champ is here." I announced when I reached Rey's table.

Rey smiled. "I know you're gonna be here. I already placed an order for us. The pizza and the root beer will be here any minute."

I nodded again but I kept noticing the man sitting in our table. The guy was huge, but by the way his large muscular arms buried his face on the table, dirty blond hair only in sight, I'm saying that he's in a slump, whoever _he _is.

"Who's with you?" I asked Rey curiously.

"What?" Rey looked at the table, then back at me."Oh, that's only Bradshaw. I just found him like that when I came here. I joined him while I waited for you, but I guess I just wasted my efforts comforting him."

John "Bradshaw" Layfield, alongside with his partner, Ron "Faarooq" Simmons, were the two brawlers of the SC Eagles. Judging by their sizes, around 6"6 to 6"7 feet tall, they are somewhat like Pillsbury Doughboys on steroids. Being the close friends that they are, they spend their time playing cards, smoke, and drink several cans of beer until they're drunk. Together, they made their enemies' lives a living hell.

"What happened? Did he get dumped or something? Where's Faarooq anyway?" My questions kept coming every second as me and Rey sat down.

Rey looked almost hesitant to speak. "That's the problem."

"What?"

Rey took a deep breath before he reluctantly continued. "Remember what happened at football practice yesterday? When you pummeled Heyman?"

"Vaguely." Of course I remembered. The wailing pig in pain. How can I forget?

"Well, Paulie kind of ran into Bradshaw and Faarooq after that. Naturally the twosome laughed at him," Rey continued. "Paulie was so pissed that he threatened to kick them off the team, but that was when Paulie thought of Bradshaw so highly because his family is practically the richest in SC. So, he kicked Faarooq off."

Really, I never heard of such horrible news my whole life. I pretended to be horrified for Bradshaw's sake. "No! He didn't!"

Bradshaw finally looked up, almost crying. "Oh yes, he did! Faarooq didn't even get me to explain."

I gave him a confused look. "Explain what?"

"I was so horribly misunderstood," Bradshaw said, looking frustrated than ever. "Faarooq told Heyman that if he's gonna kick him off the team, he will have to kick us both out."

"And you just said no?" Rey said disbelievingly.

"There's nothing I can do! Football's my whole life, guys! I can't just throw it all away!"

My jaw dropped, but Rey looked absolutely shocked.

"I have to go now," Bradshaw said, standing up. "I don't think Faarooq's ever speaking to me again, and I have to turn over a new leaf."

"Well, uh...don't you wanna eat first?" Rey asked him.

Bradshaw shook his head, flashing us a weak smile. "Thanks, but no thanks. I might be bothering you two." he added, looking right at me. I looked off, acting like I didn't see him.

When Bradshaw was gone, I dropped into his still-warm seat across Rey, who was fiddling with a plastic straw. "Don't you wanna eat with us?" I mocked. "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard."

Rey's eyes were wide as he held his palms up. "My bad. He didn't tell me any of these things until you came along."

That expalanation was far from enough. I looked at the direction from where Bradshaw left. "That bastard. He disgusts me."

"I just can't believe it." Rey said, his eyes on his Nikes.

I couldn't believe it either. Bradshaw and Faarooq, splitting up? Now this is something: Bradshaw turning his back on his only best friend just to continue his football career. Now the whole school will know all about it in less than 24 hours. Both of them are so close you couldn't get a nail file through them. Now their legacy will forever be shattered, carrying the burden to their graves.

Rey and I were both silent when the pizza finally arrived. We both dug in, grabbing slice after delicious slice of melting cheese and pepperoni. I took out all my frustrations in munching my full mouth when Rey brought up the whole thing again.

"So...what does this mean for all of us?" he asked between chews.

I wiped the pizza sauce off the corner of my mouth before I spoke up. "What do you mean?"

Rey shrugged after taking a sip of his root beer. "You know. He did say he's gonna turn over a new leaf..."

I popped the last bite into my mouth and gulped down my root beer. "Forget him. He might run for student council president or take away Eddie's position after all this fiasco."

The pizza tray was all empty, and we were left by a half-full pitcher of root beer. I paid for Rey's other half of the receipt to the waitress until she finally walked off. We were just resting, too full to move when we heard high-pitched laughter from the other side of the room. It was the SC cheerleading squad, chatting and giggling from a few tables away.

"Looks like someone's having a birthday party today," I heard Rey say.

I refilled my empty glass with root beer when I saw one of the girls stood up and started to head towards our table. I started to notice familiar features as the girl came closer. It was the cheerleading legend Torrie Wilson.

"Well, well, well," Torrie said innocently as she crossed her arms on her chest. "If it isn't our little jumping bean and the Doctor of Thuganomics."

Rey chuckled. "Very funny, Torrie. Care to join us?"

She shook her head. "No thanks. Its Dawn Marie's birthday and I have to sit with them. Where's Guerrero?"

"We couldn't find him," And a strange gleam appeared on Rey's gray eyes. "Why? Still wanna date him?"

Last summer, it has spread through the football team like wildfire that Eddie and Torrie were dating. I've seen a lot of laughing and hair tossing between them, but Eddie claimed that they were only "dating" and they're just friends now. Torrie, on the other hand, insisted that she's too young for Eddie and had no interest in him whatsoever. For all I know, Eddie just wanted to date her so he could wangle his way through the squad and get his ex-crush, tan and exotic Dawn Marie Psaltis, or for the sake of trying to get Torrie on his bed.

Torrie blushed. "Eddie and I are way over before first semester. Besides, I heard he's dating Vicky Taylor of RRC."

"He's a fool, then," Rey teased. "A girl like you's too cute to let go."

Torrie smiled that dazzling cheerleading smile of hers. I couldn't agree more with Rey. She looked really hot, wearing a black tank top with the words "Little Angel" emblazoned in white Old English text, matching her checkered red miniskirt and clogs. Her straight blond hair fell onto her shoulders, her green eyes bright and her lips shined under a coat of clear gloss. She was built too, as her cleavage made perfectly clear. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Torrie looked at me, the brilliant smile still on her face. "Uh, Cena? I think your glass is full."

I got out of my hypnosis and my attention went to my glass overflowing with root beer, the spill almost dripping to the floor. I shifted my visor lower, hiding my reddening face as I tossed napkins on the puddle. I guess I held the pitcher for too long.

"I think I'm gonna go now and get some napkins," Torrie said, laughing lightly. "I'll see you at school, then."

Rey called another waitress to clean our table as I watched Torrie walk away. I remembered when I first saw her last summer training after my enrollment on SC. She'd tried out for cheerleading, and I've seen the way she danced gracefully, but there was just something about her so attractive...so right, that the faces of the junior cheerleaders and the squad captain said that's she's as good as in. Torrie was the only not-yet-freshman ever to make the cut—most didn't even try—and the gym had erupted into utter pandemonium when her name had been announced at the beginning of the school year. Torrie was already one of the most popular, most talked about girls in school. Becoming a freshman cheerleader had lifted her to the status of legend.

I also remembered that fateful summer day, when I had also practiced for the football team. I was big sweaty mess after all those running drills. Eddie and Rey already ran to the showers while I lagged behind, taking off my shirt on the side of the field. I was searching in vain of a towel in my duffel bag when I felt soft fingers tapping on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Torrie with her game-day smile, an armload of towels in her arms.

"Towel?" she had asked. I blindly grabbed one and watched her ran off, giving towels to the other team players, and I felt her smiling face burning into my brain. She was all I ever thought about ever since.

"Smooth," Rey joked when the waitress left. "Torrie Wilson must be crazy for your hots right now."

"Shut up!" I scowled, throwing a crumpled napkin at him.

We were throwing wads at each other when we found several SC students running around outside, seeming to head to a certain place. Rey and I stood up and stared out the glass panes.

"What the hell's going on?"

Rey shrugged. "Maybe Eddie knows."

I tried to look for Eddie's low-rider of the week, but found none in sight. "He's not around here, that's for sure."

After several minutes, a low-rider actually stopped itself in front of The Danger Zone and Eddie bursted through the revolving doors, a wild expression on his face.

"So this is where you are, _vato locos_!" he cried. ""I've been looking all over for you two!"

I was in a loss. "What, you started up a riot again?"

Eddie shook his head, looking impatient. "No, this is bigger. I'll tell you in the car. Go!"

Rey and I both looked at each other before we followed Eddie out the door to his car. I scrambled to the back seat while Rey sat in the front. Eddie frantically took the key to the ignition and the engine roared into life. We shut the doors the very same time as Eddie drove towards the SC campus.

"Ok, Eddie, enough with the cloak-and-dagger routine," I asked Eddie almost irritably. "What the fuck is going on?"

Eddie looked at me from his rearview mirror, designed with dangling pink dice cuffs. "Football field. Paul Heyman was punked out."

Rey this time. "By whom?"

Eddie shrugged. "I don't know yet."

When Eddie parked his car in front of the school's parking lot, we charged out the doors and ran to the football field. When we reached the place, we saw a group of SC students circled in one place. The three of us pushed through the huddled crowd, and my eyes widened as I saw it.

Paul Heyman was flat on the ground, completely unconscious. His face was battered and bruised, and his forehead was busted open, the blood trickling down to his ears. Heck, I'm not the only one who holds a grudge on him, but this isn't normal at all. Then I noticed a crumpled piece of notebook paper taped to his chest. I grabbed the paper and read the note.

_BEWARE ON FRIDAY, EAGLES. WE MIGHT EAT YOUR WINGS. **H.O.F.B.**_

"H.O.F.B?" Rey read beside me. "What the hell does that mean?"

I didn't say anything. This kind of beating...a completely noticeable threat...these initials serving as a symbolism to those sinners' only mean one thing.

"Helmsley...Orton...Flair...Batista," I deduced carefully.

Eddie was the one who got it. "Evolution."

Evolution is a group of bullies from Red River College, joined with the football team. They've done enough stupid things when they first graced their school; I'm surprised they aren't expelled yet. Principal McMahon said they were too talented, too rich to be expelled. Those bullies had everything they wanted; money, women, good looks, flashy limousines, and any other stuff self-centered peacocks would like.

"Just when you thought things have gotten stranger around here," Eddie said dryly. "Me and Paulie aren't exactly_ hermanos, _but this is so wrong."

The corner of Rey's lip curled. "This is just sick, Evolution's handiwork."

I gulped. Thursday was the draft lottery, and Friday was the away game against the RRC Lions. If ever I got drafted to RRC, I might not see the lights of day ever again.

The medics finally came and took Heyman away. Other people started walking off; going back to their own business, but the three of us remained, watching the ambulance whisk away from the school territory. The sky turned purplish-black, and soon the stars will appear, curving toward the horizon as if pasted inside a giant bowl. I inhaled the scent of the warm night air, but I still didn't feel better. It's almost like there's an angry black cloud right above me, ready to pour out rain any minute.

"I guess this would be the last time,." I blurted out.

"The last time?" Eddie and Rey echoed.

"At Thursday, one of us is gonna be drafted on the Brawler Club."

"Oh," Rey said, tugging his dark hair. "The draft lottery thing."

Eddie's eyes went back and forth on both of us. "You let that stupid thing affect you so much? Lighten up, _vatos_!"

I frowned at Eddie. "This isn't funny, Eddie. Any of could see you don't want to be drafted on RRC too!"

I half-expected Eddie to explode, rather yell defensively, but he just looked at me with those serious eyes. "We have only known each other last summer, _esse_. I never thought you'd get under my skin so easily."

Rey cringed. "Don't remind me. We weren't exactly peas in a pod when me and Eddie first met you, J. No offense, bro."

I rolled my eyes skyward. "Refresh my memory."

No one said anything for a moment.

"You know what?" I suddenly said out of the blue. "Fuck the lottery. It doesn't matter where I end up."

Rey raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

I smiled for the first time that day. "Why? Coz' your my boys."

Eddie and Rey both grinned (man, those two have lots of teeth!). We caught each other in a bone-breaking hug. "And you'll always be our little asshole."

After that, we bid good night to each other when we reached our dormitory. And as I lay in my bed with half-lit eyes, I know everything will be just peachy on Thursday.

Or so I'd thought.

(t.b.c.)


	4. A Phone Call From A Certain Someone

**God! 6 reviews already?**

**And to that someone who reviewed, yes, Randy Orton will be here in the next few chapters, and he'll be playing an important role here. So wait for it!**

I rolled over in my bed, pressing down extra pillows and tangled sheets to check my alarm clock.

Great. Just super.

There were still a few minutes before the buzzer that Friday morning, and even though it would ring as shrilly as it would normally do, it would just make me feel worse. I wasn't able to sleep straight the whole night because of that stupid draft lottery. I always hated surprises, never to know what's coming next. My head started to pound and I wanted to sleep this off for a few more minutes. The away game with RRC is tonight, and I need my energy.

Someone knocked softly on the door, slipping a light blue flyer under the dark mahogany wood. This is the way SC people send mail. I got the heavy comforter off me, forced myself up, and walked to the doorway.

I picked the blue flyer up, staring at the contents blindly. Suddenly, my eyebrows hit my hairline as I read the words neatly printed in black block letters.

**_DRAFT LOTTERY RESULTS_**

_(Trades made official after midnight)_

"Holy!" I exclaimed through the silence of my bedroom. Wasn't midnight a few hours ago? I felt myself losing my stupor and I read the unlucky hopefuls from RRC who got transferred to our school.

**_RED RIVER COLLEGE TRADES_**

_Rene Dupree_

_Mark Jindrak_

_Theodore Long_

_Rico Costantino_

_Booker Huffman_

_Jackie Gayda_

_Matthew "Spike" Hyson_

_Mark "Bubba Ray" Lamonica_

_Devon "D-von" Hughes_

_Rob Van Dam _

My face went plain blank. The last name on the list kept repeating itself in my brain. Then I remembered the hopeful expression on the fool's face when he said he wanted me to their team.

"Ha! Too bad!" I gloated. "In your face, RVD!" I couldn't wait to see the man tonight and rub it all over to his face.

I read the other names listed. There was a French foreigner, a narcissistic human being, a so-called talent scout, a gay fagget, a Whoopi Goldberg look-alike, a blonde cheerleader, three adopted brothers, and a character out of a Kung Fu rerun. So Heyman was serious about that "no one is safe" shit. Maybe that's why Vincent Kennedy Mac created this lottery in the first place. Shaking things up a bit, he'd said, as a way of celebrating the 20th anniversaries of both SC and RRC.

And he did shake things up. Big time. Does he even have any idea about the consequences of what he's actually doing?

Well…maybe not.

Getting the evil thoughts regarding the Big Boss out of my mind, I nervously looked down at the near bottom portion of the flyer, where the names of our SC students are listed below.

**_SPRINGVILLE COLLEGE TRADES_**

_Yoshihiro Tajiri_

_Shelton Benjamin_

_Terry Gerin_

_Nidia Guenard_

_A-Train (?)_

_Adam Copeland_

_Charles Palumbo_

_Paul Heyman_

"Paul Heyman?!" I read aloud. Too loud. "No way!"

This was too good to be true. I mean, I already know that not everyone is safe and all that, but I had no idea that the GMs are also included! The injury he got from Evolution must have hurt him a lot, but working for the RRC GM Eric Bischoff must be one heck of a final blow.

Wait a sec…my name's not included in the list?

I blinked twice as I read the list again. My name _was_ not included in the list! Even though I hate it in here, the "what if's" and the doubts going through my mind seemed to be gradually melting away. I felt relieved—no, what comes after relief? It felt so good.

My thoughts went back to Paulie and I know he must be begging for mercy right now. I read the last inscription at the very bottom of the flyer.

**_NOTE: _**_All trades are made official with the cooperation of the Springville College and Red River College Board of Directors. Any impulsive or violent reactions from the draftees will be expelled from school without prior notice. Thank you for your cooperation._

_Signed and officiated by Principal Vincent Kennedy McMahon._

I set the flyer down in my nightstand as I dropped onto the bed. The buzzer of the 6 a.m. clock went off and I slapped it hard, but I made no move to get up. I breathed in a sweet refreshing sigh of relief. Thank God it's over.

But the unwelcome thought reared its ugly head; the draftees will be after me as usual. It has been like that since day one.

Don't worry. John Cena is no coward. I could take all of them even with my hands tied or my eyes blindfolded. I know how to be different than anyone else even if it means offending them. A boy like me was born to stand out.

I still made no move to get up. There were still a few more hours before first period, but I couldn't wait to see Rey and Eddie. They must be totally ecstatic that they didn't get drafted too. I stood up, and then walked to the bathroom for a quick shower. A guy's gotta smell good, you know.

When I got out of the bathroom, I immediately dressed myself, a branded white shirt and black throwbacks—nothing really loud. I was putting on my padlocked chain necklace when the phone rang, startling me. I grabbed a Von-Dutch trucker hat before I charged to the phone, fumbling the cordless out of its cradle and into my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is John Cena there?"

It was something that I least expected—a voice of a girl'. I never really gave my number to anyone else but Rey, Eddie, and the Head Boy of the dorm. How can some girl' calls me now? Unless…

Oh, terrific. Maybe some of these puppy dog-eyed bimbos found my number in the SC phone directory. Damn it, which is why I hate putting a phone here in the first place!

I walked to the door with the phone still in my ear, thinking if this was nothing but a silly prank. Now my early high spirits were now set into a dead-end curiosity. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Awwww," the girl' whined. "You don't recognize your _only sister's_ voice? I'm hurt."

The way she stressed those words only meant one thing. I stood there gaping for a few seconds, and then it all exploded afterwards.

"Haylie, you bitch!" I yelled. "Are you trying to kill me or what?"

The bitch now laughed. That's who she is, Haylie Cena, the usual goth girl wild child. Becoming sweet little sixteen in a "never been kissed" mode must be getting in her head. She seemed pleased with her little prank, the way she was tittering on the phone.

"You were expecting your little admirers, bro?"

I sat down in my bed, and I had the feeling that Haylie's been awake for a long time. "How did you know my number?"

"I have connections. There is—"

"Oh, don't tell me." I interrupted.

"Why are you being so touchy now?" Haylie asked darkly.

"Gee, I don't know," I returned sarcastically. "Maybe because it's the crack of dawn and you're calling me now for the first time in your life."

There was a pause. "Maybe I know more than you think."

"Of course you do. You practically know everything, oh-so-greatness." I said noncommittally.

A rustling came over the line, and I knew Haylie was struggling to sit up in her bed. "That's not true. And anyway I thought you'd be up. Shouldn't you be getting to class?"

"This is _college_, Haylie. Anyone who has half a clue on how to work things here has to be anywhere before ten."

"Is that true?"

I shrugged and sat down on my bed. "If you get real good, you take Mondays and Wednesdays off too."

Haylie paused again. "I guess school was fun. Sometimes. At least it got me out of the house."

I understood exactly what she meant. Haylie already started high school as a junior. I could tell from her tone that she couldn't wait to graduate and go to college. Or get a job. Anything that would get her out of our "home."

"How's college? Giving you any pressure lately?" Haylie asked.

"Not much."

"I guess with you as being athletic as you are, you're good enough for NFL," she suggested. "Better yet, why not have a major in music?"

I rolled my eyes. Me? Singing? No way will that happen.

"You do have a good rapping voice," Haylie insisted when she noticed my silence. "You can certainly make girls swoon, unlike that Eminem character. Plus, your raps really crack me up."

My lip curled. "No thanks. No choir person ever made the A-list."

"Are you saying that I sing badly?" she demanded.

"No," I fibbed. "Stop putting words in my mouth."

I was kidding, of course. Haylie has a nice voice, and she _can_ sing, so she had recently formed a rock band called "Flypaper" when she was a sophomore. And ever since she was popular for performing in school dances and such, she was fought over by music classes and even school play directors.

Now it's my turn to ask. "How are Dad and Elsa? Giving you any pressure lately?"

"Ugh," said Haylie, clearly disgusted. "I couldn't stand that simpering Barbie doll Dad had married in."

"Why? What happened?"

"You know what happened at dinner last night? I just asked Dad what he did yesterday, and he said that he and my _mother_ went grocery shopping. I laughed sarcastically and I said that I couldn't believe that my _mother_ would risk breaking a nail actually shopping for groceries."

I smirked. "Your _mother_—that's a hot one."

"And you know what else?" Haylie continued. "I looked at Elsa and she looked like someone thrusted a giant gherkin up her ass, the way she was glaring at me, and Dad was like, 'That is no way to talk about your _mother_!' Can you just believe that?"

I laughed at Haylie's perfect imitation of Dad's growly voice. "Let me guess: she gave you a version of child psychology?"

"Worse. The bitch didn't even give me a good chewing out like any other normal parent, for fuck's sake." Haylie returned. "Not only that, Dad told me he didn't want me to end up like you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you! Dad said something's definitely wrong with your behavior."

I rolled my eyes again. "What's wrong with _my _behavior?"

Haylie chuckled. "Not that there's anything wrong with it…"

We talked a little more, about Haylie's classes, about boys and girls that she hates, and her continuous ramblings of living in one roof with Dad and Elsa. After that we have run out of things to talk, and it was replaced by long pregnant silence.

"Would you like to come over and stay for the weekend?" Haylie suddenly blurted out.

Who would? "You know I don't want to stay in that house when Dad and Elsa—"

"Not this weekend, silly," she said quickly. "Dad is going to Hawaii for some business trip, and he's taking Elsa. They'll be gone for three days."

"So you're gonna be alone?"

"Uh-huh."

The first word on my lips had been "no", except that I never said it. Three days alone in that house must be big for Haylie, and she did sound real desperate…

"Fine, I'll call you," I finally said. "I'm bringing some friends, if you don't mind that is."

"I don't mind," said Haylie. "Besides, hanging out with college kids would be good practice for me when I graduate high school. Just make sure they don't eat the furniture. Elsa might freak."

"Please. You don't know what kinds of morons I'm hanging out with."

Haylie chuckled. "I guess that's good enough. Oh, and John?"

"What?"

"It would be great to see you again. Thanks."

_BEEP_. She had hung up.

I took the phone back to its receiver, and then I finally put my hat and my shoes and stared out the window, watching as the sun breaking the pink clouds as the day broke.

It wasn't so bad living with Elsa and Dad, but it wasn't so great either. If only Dad hadn't accepted that stupid research position and moved us all here in California, it could have been a lot better. I thought back to when my parents were still together. Haylie and I had been at home then, and the whole family had lived in a killer house in Massachusetts, right next to a lake. Now my real mother still lived in Massachusetts, and Haylie and I are stuck in the Golden State with our clueless doctor father and his snobby, socialite bitch half my age. What was Dad thinking when he married that gold-digging piece of fluff?

And then there was Haylie, a subject all by itself. The close relationship she once had with Mom had been mortally wounded by the divorce and Elsa's daily presence was smothering the last sparks of life from its corpse. Despite all her nasty posturing, she really looked up to me like I was some source of her life or anything, but we both knew it wasn't the same. The only thing real about this _family_ is the pain in the ass it gives me.

Then again, I have to give Haylie some credit. After all, she had to live in that Tudor mansion with Dad and that Barbie doll, and try to survive for the fittest without actually killing them both. I knew she was dying form the inside out, just like I was. It was funny how hard we kept these deaths a secret.

And then there was the "looking up to me" part. When I got my acceptance to SC, Haylie had been crushed.

I am only human after all.

Suddenly, someone pounded on my door. I tore my gaze from the window and walked to the doorway, opening it.

What I definitely didn't expect that it was our team captain Kurt Angle, dressed in his best shirt and khakis with a panicked expression in his face.

"Lumpy?" I said disbelievingly.

"Good. You're awake," Angle said breathlessly. "Meeting on the locker room. Go!"

Angle started to run off again, while I leaned on the door, stunned. "What's going on?"

"You'll find out soon," he said over his shoulder. "Oh, and get Guerrero and Mysterio with you. I don't know where their rooms are."

"Hey, Kurt—"

Too late. Angle immediately turned to the next corner of the corridor, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. I walked back to my room and picked up the flyer from the nightstand, and then I locked the door from the inside and slammed it shut. My steps sped up to the opposite direction of the hall, to the staircase where it leads to the third floor rooms are.

"Ok then. Time to wake Rey and Eddie up."

(t.b.c.)


	5. Conflicts Build Up

**I would just like to remind everyone that I'm still making drafts, and I will try to make it to Summerslam, where Cena faces Booker T (you'll see what a twist I'll do to it), and to the grand finale. Plus, I'll take it slow for a while, because my exams are up. Just keep on reviewing!**

**Also, I have a confession to make. I'm from the Philippines, I'm a girl, I'm 16, a senior in high school, and Cena and Orton are my latest obsessions. E-mail me ad tell me what's the latest on Raw and Smackdown, cause we're kind of three weeks behind.**

**Hope you'll hear me out! **

I headed towards the locker room, my padlock chains jingling with every step that I made. Rey and Eddie were lagging behind me, yawning and sleepily following my saunter. Bet they have no idea where we're going.

"Hey J," Rey called throatily behind me.

"What?"

"Where are we goin'?"

"Haven't you seen Angle this morning?" I asked him rather irritably.

Rey yawned again, rubbed his eyes and scratched his hair. "I dunno…was he there, Ed?"

Rey turned to Eddie, who looks like someone who has no idea what was happening to the world at that moment. Eddie peered at Rey through half-closed eyes, oblivious"Didn't see the bulbhead anywhere, _holmes_. I honestly thought he was drafted to RRC."

Man, these guys are hopeless. I gave them the blue flyer I was holding for a while. "Here. This might wake you up, rather knowing what the meaning of caffeine is."

I continued to walk, Eddie and Rey sharing sections of the flyer behind me. Suddenly, like a bubble bursting to the surface, the first sharp intake of air broke out, both their eyes were wide and their expressions perplexed than ever.

"Paul Heyman?!" they both exclaimed. "No way!"

Boy, I do remember that's the same way I reacted when I laid my eyes on the light blue scrap. "Great. Now you're awake." I reminded them snidely.

Rey smiled cheekily. "Ah, so the Big Boss wasn't really kidding when he'd said no one was safe. Paulie honestly thinks he wouldn't be picked."

Eddie crumpled the flyer and threw the wad behind him. "The old man's full of surprises these days. "First, a draft lottery. I wonder what McMahon will think of next."

"Well, whatever it is, I hope it wouldn't involve sudden death." I grumbled.

The two of them erupted in laughter, and I couldn't help thinking that a smile was creeping over my face. Yeah, we're free of telling jokes about that McMahon character, but the man is actually worth fearing. You're safe as long as you respect him. Don't cross the boss, he would always say, but I would like to remind that he doesn't actually _own_ both SC and RRC, and that he isn't the real Boss. The owner is his wife, Linda McMahon. Vincent Kennedy Mac was her faithful puppy. Or other than being her faithful puppy…

Yuck. I wouldn't even want to think about it.

We went inside the locker room, and unlike the other high-class, nice and squeaky clean deluxe areas of the school, the room was long and unattractive, with exposed ducts and pipes hugging the raw white walls. Everyone was here, including the cheerleading squad, obviously pissed that they were joined in the lottery. There were disapproving hisses from their group, their expressions plain disgusted, while the guys are annoyed because they were woken up too early. We took our seats arranged right to the front, from where Kurt Angle stands so everyone would see him.

"Settle down people!" Angle announced. "Sorry to get you all up so early, but I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you about the things that have been happening so far. As you all know, our general manager Paul Heyman has been drafted to RRC."

Everyone cheered, even hugged and clapped each other, jumping and laughing, including the cheerleaders, while I stayed glued to my seat, the beginnings of a frown forming in my face. Angle just called everyone here for _that_? As if anyone would care about Heyman!

But Angle didn't look happy at all. "However, he chose not to work for Bischoff, so he quit this business. We don't have a GM, do you hear me? No GM!"

"Obviously," a voice said from the cheerleaders. They stifled their giggles.

"I've just made some calls to the Big Boss," he continued. "I already don't know what I'm going to do here with you bruisers, and McMahon's not answering any of my calls!"

"Of course he wouldn't, you nitwit," I piped in, not taking it any longer. "What do you expect form a busy man like the Big Boss answering your prissy phone calls after doing that damn lottery last night?"

Everyone looked at me, even Eddie and Rey, their shocked faces saying it all. The bulbhead's fists were clenching at his sides when he approached me, and I almost chickened out, but then I put my foot down. What's wrong with saying something that is true?

"Geez Cena," Angle snapped fiercely. "You think you could maybe shut up?"

"Who died and made you king, Kurt?" I snarled back. "You can talk shit all you want, but I'll say whatever I want."

"Oh yeah?" Angle's reply was low and challenging.

I rose defiantly to my feet, but Angle hesitated.

"What's the matter, lumpy?" I taunted. "I thought you wanted to kick my ass."

"You and what army?" Angle drawled a challenging smirk in his face.

My fists were balled, ready to dodge him, but somehow I held my ground. "I don't need no army. I don't rely on simpletons like you do to fight my own battles."

Angle's little eyes didn't leave mine, and I glared at him with my own. Seconds passed. Minutes. It now became strangely uncomfortable, and the silence was deafening.

"What about the game tonight?" someone asked.

Angle took a deep breath, and finally walked away from me. "We're just gonna have to do without Heyman, that's all. What's important is that we cream those Lions. Got that?"

The group answered with a unanimous "Aye." I sat down in my chair and massaged my temples.

"Good," Angle said. "You all know that the new recruits from RRC are coming tonight before the game, and I respectfully ask—no, _demand, _that you please not clobber them in their first game here."

Angle smirked at me even more now, as if to emphasize his point. I sank lower in my seat, trying to wipe the scowl off my face. What, do I start all the fights here?

Ever since the two of us met last summer, we definitely did not see each other eye-to-eye. Angle loathes me for the promotion of hip-hop music and acting like a bad ass street punk, while I hated him for his patriotism and his love for America and those self-dictating crap. And that was where the war began.

I kept teasing Angle as a gay fagget because of the way he was spying on me.

He kept making bad imitations of me whenever he entertains in his class.

I retaliated by spreading juicy rumors of his girlfriend dumping him for AA batteries.

……

Ok, so that was immature. Bottom line, I'm nothing but a bruiser to him, and he's nothing a member of the holier-than-thou, minors-shouldn't-drink club. Angle always told me to shape up, a billion times that I've already lost count, or he'll expel me from the team.

Shaping up would be my decision. I promised myself that I would never let anyone intimidate me. However, if he _did_ expel me, beating the holy hell out of him would be quite easy…

I shook my head, trying to get those murderous thoughts out of my head. After all, the only sport that SC depended on was football, and if Angle kicked me off the team now, he'll be sorry that he ever did that.

"Further announcements will be made next Monday," Angle called out. "So do your best tonight, Eagles. Springville's counting on us."

Whispers of excitement were heard from the football team, and there had been titters from the cheerleaders. I have to admit; finally fighting our rival was pretty damn good. And it's going to happen tonight.

"Meeting's officially over. Now get the hell out of the locker room!" Angle announced.

Everyone stormed out of the cramped room. I was left behind, having given the responsibility by a grudgingly acute team captain to get the folding steel chairs back into the storeroom. Both Rey and Eddie were lingering at the door, waiting for me to finish. I put every chair back inside the storeroom, leaning them all neatly inside.

"You sure you don't want any help, champ?" Rey asked me.

I carried two to three of the chairs, holding it up for him to see. "I can handle it."

"That was really close, _esse vato,_" Eddie said, cracking his knuckles one by one. "You almost knocked Angle down, and if I hadn't interfered—"

"Wait. That was you?!" I said incredulously. I was so angry at that time that I barely noticed the one who spoke. I don't know why I even bothered.

"Of course I had to interrupt," Eddie insisted. "By the looks of it, you look like you're gonna strangle him."

"I was?"

When I become really angry, I tend to forget. A short-term-memory-effect-whenever-I-get-really-angry syndrome. In fact, I never actually remembered the last time I went totally irate...

"Forgive me if I'm being grateful." I said scornfully. Eddie had a satisfied smirk on his face, vindicated.

The locker room was immaculately clean, thanks to moi, and I turned to Rey, who was checking his watch.

"You guys wanna go walk around for a while?"

Eddie nodded while I shrugged. Soon, the three of us were on the school's outdoor park across to the parking lot. A few of our teammates started a game of touch football, while the cheerleading squad was on the picnic tables, talking about some back flips and pyramids for tonight. The football team and the cheerleading squad were the only ones awake that morning, making up for excess time.

The three of us were silent, all in separate thoughts. Then I blurted out something that was bothering me since this morning.

"Can you guys…uh…tell me whenever you're free for…uh… on a weekend?" I stammered out.

The two Latino boys exchanged confused looks. "Sure. Why?"

I wanted nothing more than to flee but I couldn't seem to move. "My sister's inviting me to stay over for three days, and she's been bugging me to meet you two."

I bent my head down. I didn't understand why I'm feeling so embarrassed. I knew I was babbling, and it was stupid, but I just couldn't seem to stop.

A few seconds later, they both laughed.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"Really, dude. You really scared us." Rey said between guffaws.

Eddie, on the other hand, had his dark eyes crinkled with mirth. "You look like you pissed your pants there, so we thought it was something. Don't worry, _holmes_. We'll be more than happy to join you."

So they did notice. Damn it, I hate it when they do that!

"Just—just don't say anything, all right?!" I sputtered. "You're lucky you don't have an impertinent sister. How about putting yourselves in my shoes?"

"Haylie hasn't changed, isn't she?" said Eddie, smiling. "Just following her older brother's steps."

"Eddie's right, you know," Rey piped in. "Besides, if she really looked up to you like you said, maybe she isn't so impertinent. I'd like to meet her."

"Me too," Eddie butted in. "It would be great to meet Little Miss Minx."

"I do hope she's cute though." Rey thought.

"Ah, Rey, there you go again. Women, women, and women." said Eddie, sighing.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Ok, so we both want to find out what them Avril Lavigne clones are like, but I would like to go first please."

"Aha! So you do want to know her!"

"You're thinking of different things. In case you haven't noticed, I already have a girlfriend, _holmes._"

"Gyeh! Are you even that loyal to her?"

"All right already!" I howled, exasperated. "Both of you are obviously set. I get it. Geez…"

Eddie wrinkled his nose. "That's enough excitement for now. How about going to McDonald's, _hombres_? I'm starving."

Rey nodded. "McDonald's sounds good."

"Quick! To my low-rider, _vato locos_!" Eddie announced in his best superhero imitation voice.

They both sprinted to the parking lot, but I stayed behind. Inviting Rey and Eddie to this trip was a good idea. With the attitudes they both carried their whole lives, Haylie may not even pick on them. Who knows? Maybe they'll all get along, maybe not. Maybe Haylie might even like one of them, maybe not. She's just gonna have to deal.

"What are you waiting for, _holmes_?" Eddie called. "Are you gonna ride with us or just stand there looking pretty, _esse_?"

I shook my head and smiled to myself. I should have nothing to worry about. I started to run to Eddie's car, full of energy. After all, the game was tonight…

"Fine! But it'll be your treat!" I yelled.

(t.b.c.)


	6. The Game Night: SmackDown vs RAW!

**There's a few people I would like to give chocolates to:**

**JohnCenasgurl-You're one avid reviewer! Go gal!**

**Jeff's favorite skittle-Since you couldn't wait, here's Chap 6! Don't worry, this is only a preview about John and Randy's relationship behind facades. (stop thinking of slashes...) Just keep on reviewing more often! Thanx!**

**Mitchy the Bitch-In this kind of category, you're free to use the B word.(haha) I know you can't keep you're eyes off your own PC, I know how much you do, but you're Math is suffering woman! (just kidding) Oh, stop telling me that I'm better than you, you're one gothic writer that I can't beat, and I most certainly can't beat youi in English, especially if Sir Rommel's the teacher! Oh, and kick Rap out of the Top 10 for me as soon as the exams are over, he really pisses me off. (and I don't like him anymore!)**

**I just can't tell you that I own WWE, because I think all of really doesn't. But I do wish that I own Randy Orton, and I'll make him feed me ice cream! With gooey chocolate flavor and Oreo chunks. ALL DAY LONG.**

**(starts running to the bathroom) ./**

The crowd sat down in their bleachers, ready for the upcoming game. The students of Springville and Red River were at their designated bleachers, parallel to each other. Both schools have their own football fields, but Principal McMahon bitingly decided that if we were going to have a game against each other, the city football stadium would be the perfect place.

The new recruits form RRC came about an hour ago, and they're now joining us at this very moment. They seemed particularly happy to be with their new team, or maybe they're just acting that way, for fear of being expelled by the Big Boss. We are wearing our uniforms for the season: black jersey top with blue calico numbers sewn on the front, matching our royal blue helmets and white pants. The whole team was on the other side of the field, away from the crowd's plain sight. There were only about a few minutes before the lineup, and the others are simply talking and laughing before we take action.

I looked down on my own jersey and sighed, tracing the 89 on my jersey with my fingers. I held my own helmet at my side and ruffled my spiky brown hair, a nervous habit. There were only a few months left before school is officially over, and having another game this season was a bang. I broke into a cold sweat, and my hands were shaking.

Yes, people. John Cena does get nervous.

"You're shaking," Rey noticed.

"You're not kidding," I replied, balling my hands into fists, but now my arms had the effect.

Rey shook his head, a sympathetic smile on his face. "You know you're gonna do good out there. You have always been in every game we had."

"I know that. But these are the Red River Lions were facing." I said.

"Just be glad that Eddie isn't here. Who knows what he would have done to you right now."

"I know that."

Rey left me to talk to the other teammates, while I searched the foolish Latino jackass with my eyes. The last time we've seen Eddie, he was talking to Kurt Angle earlier before we dressed up, but at that time I was too busy to eavesdrop. And then curiosity got the better of me and I asked Eddie straight out. He only shrugged, and didn't say anything the whole night.

"Just think of it as a surprise, _esse_." he had said.

Gyeh. I _hate_ surprises.

The SC cheerleaders were lined in a single-file next to the football teams, their uniforms contrasting to ours. They were wearing sleeveless blue jerseys under black shirts, the flamboyant logo of Springville up front, complete with their jersey numbers and surnames. They also knotted their jerseys at the back to show off their hard-earned curves, and they matched their outfits with plain blue skirts and black knee-highs. I guess they let the designer's mind go crazy.

"Hi Cena!" a voice said next to me. I glanced to the right and my eyes widened. It was Torrie Wilson, all smiles in her perfect face. "Can you imagine? Our very first game against the Lions! You guys must be excited!"

"Excited," I echoed weakly. She looked really cute, even without her normal make-up and her usually straight and loose blond hair were in soft curls, pinned off her shoulders to add the effect.

The girl on Torrie's side giggled.

"Oh!" Torrie exclaimed. "I would like to introduce you to someone."

Torrie ushered the girl behind her to get on her side, and that girl had her own blond hair dyed in light blue strands around her face, and her own make up composed of mostly of glitters. She was also really pretty because I'm pretty sure I've never seen her before.

"Cena, this is Jackie Gayda, one of the draftees from Red River. Jackie, this is John Cena, the pride of Springville."

I raised my hand to politely shake the other girl's. "Pleasure."

Jackie blushed a little, but she managed to grab hold of my hand. "So you're John Cena. Everyone talks about you in Red River. Rumors told me you're hot, but I never knew you were _this_ hot!"

Torrie smiled. "That's John Cena. Hot."

I suddenly felt flattered, feeling like a man stretching up to his full height. It's been so long since a girl adored me, I nearly forgotten what it felt like.

"But who can be hotter than Randy Orton!" Jackie gushed.

Torrie giggled. "Definitely!"

The two girls hashed out details about the youngest member of RRC's faction, Evolution, that's what they call them, while I felt the smile frozen in my face. The blast of the past suddenly washed over me. Again.

The RRC Lions were on the other side of the field opposite to ours, talking and laughing and drinking water. They have red jerseys, and black lines surrounding their cheeks like war paint. Their sizes, on the other hand, were surprisingly huge for college kids. I started to search for the group considered fearing in Red River.

Aha! They there were. The four guys were at a suitable distance away from their football team. I saw their leader, Hunter Hearst Helmsley, looking around the crowd as if there's anyone man enough to jump on him. The other two guys, Ric Flair and Dave Batista, were chatting to a certain someone.

And that certain someone was him. Or rather _he_. Himself. Randy Orton. No one else.

As if noticing me burning a hole in his back, Randy turned to look at me. He looked surprised for a moment, and then flashed me a cocky smile. I nodded at him in return. Then he turned his head back again and started to bother Hunter. I stifled my laughter when I saw the leader of Evolution whacked Randy at the back of his head.

"Who are you looking at?" Torrie suddenly asked.

I shook my head. "Nobody. But let me look at _you_. Would you like to turn around for me, please?"

Torrie blushed. "Sure."

Torrie slowly turned around. Her cheerleading uniform fit her perfectly, showing lots of skin to make the kids drool. The _WILSON_ on the back of her jersey was emblazoned in royal blue, but what struck my attention was her jersey number: 89.

She looked expectantly back at me. "Did our uniforms come out good?"

"We have the same jersey number." I observed.

Torrie looked at my jersey, and then looked down at hers. "Oops. What are the odds?"

She looked so sweet and pathetic that it seemed uncanny to offend her. "It looks good on you though." I immediately said.

"Thanks." she said, flashing me a smile.

I wore back my helmet, using it as an excuse to hide my blushing face. My hands were shaking less now, but now my heart was now beating double time. The nervousness I had before the game and the talking to Torrie part was already making me feel nauseous.

I saw our announcer Tazz and the announcer from RRC, Jim Ross. They made their way to the stadium's skybox, and the dorks were clearly excited as they sat down in the announcer's table.

Torrie flashed me another smile before following the other cheerleaders running out to the field. "Good luck, you guys."

She ran off and started to dance along with the others in loud dance music, and I felt my chest swell like a rooster's.

_Don't do it, man,_ a voice inside me said. _She is way off your league. Not Torrie._

Though it's pretty damn hard getting Torrie out of my head, I tried to pay more attention to what's happening around me. The crowd applauded when the cheerleaders finished their dances, accompanied with wolf whistles and catcalls. The football teams started to line up.

J.R. spoke at once. "Presenting, the Red River Lions!"

The brawlers streaked out the field. Now, the Lions' undefeated record will be broken by the us-us, the Springville Eagles.

"Okay, Eagles!" I heard Angle say from somewhere. "It's now or never!"

The crowd was unstoppable, stomping in their bleachers. I felt the earth shudder beneath my cleats.

Tazz smiled and finally announced, "And now, the Springville Eagles!"

I closed my eyes one final time, and opened them once again as I ran along with my teammates.

Let the games begin.

(After a few touchdowns and losses…)

"Okay, _hombres_! This is the final play!" Eddie hollered, rallying the team around him. "Let's put this baby to bed!"

I pushed forward in the huddle to hear Eddie call the pattern. Turns out that the surprise was Eddie became our temporary team captain for a while until Angle got this GM problem solved. I observed the _GUERRERO_ on Eddie's jersey was almost covered with mud, but he didn't mind. He's been impressive the whole night, barking out orders and giving us unique patterns. The Eagles were now murdering the Lions, and now the clock had all but run out. One last play and there'd be nothing left but the partying.

"Let's go!" Eddie bellowed, breaking up the huddle. The teams took their positions.

"46! 23! Hike!"

The ball was hiked, and I charged off the line. All around me bodies collided, and the racket of crashing pads and helmets assaulted my ears as the scents of sweat, turf, and mud attacked my nostrils. I juked to the left, then ran to the right, faking a defender out of his cleats. I pushed past the other boy and flew down the sideline.

My legs pumped beneath me, my lungs sucked in the cool night air, and my arms swung freely at the sides. My body was clicking along like a machine, effortlessly doing whatever I asked it to. I reached open field and glanced back over my shoulder in time to see the ball hurtling in my direction. It was a wild throw—too high and way to the left. Without hesitation, I gathered myself and leapt, my legs launching me into space as my arm stretched out in front of me.

The football smacked my palms, and I quickly trapped it in my chest. Only then did I notice that I was several feet up the air—and coming down face first. I ducked my head and held on, my entire concentration focused on not fumbling. The buzzer went off. The ground struck me hard behind my left shoulder. I rolled forward onto my feet and sprang up, unhurt, holding the ball triumphantly skyward in one strong hand.

"Yeah!" I yelled, spiking the ball. "Yes!"

I turned to the stands, my arms thrown open wide, and the crowd didn't disappoint me. They screamed their approval, their adoration. What a game I'd had, and what a way to end it! For the first time, we finally beat the Lions.

Then the rest of the team caught up with me. The next thing I knew, I was buried under an avalanche of flesh and clattering equipment. "Way to go!" my teammates yelled, beating me on my helmet, my pads, whatever they could reach. "Cena! You stud! Way to go!"

I didn't get the touchdown, but it didn't matter. The game had been won well before the last play anyhow—my spectacular catch had simply added the exclamation point. Kurt Angle blew the whistle and the dogpile finally struggled back to its feet.

"Good game, everyone," Angle congratulated us, his voice just a wheeze from shouting throughout the entire game. "Cena, way to hustle!"

Ah, so The Man of Honor congratulates me now? I smirked at his praise, knowing I'd never played better. SC had a great team. I started to trot off to the locker room when Eddie caught me by the shoulder, Rey beaming at his side.

"Here, _esse_," said Eddie, handing me a megaphone.

I was baffled. "Where did you guys get this?"

Rey chuckled. "Eddie stole that from Tazz and J.R. for you. Eat your heart out, J."

I nodded at them gratefully before I took the microphone from Eddie's waiting hands and ran off to the middle of the field once again. The crowd continued to cheer out loud.

"Go Cena!" the SC cheerleaders yelled in unison.

I smiled before getting the megaphone to my lips. "Whose house?"

And they chanted out what I expected them to say.

"Cena…Cena…Cena…Cena…Cena…"

(t.b.c.)


	7. Close To You

**A tragedy has befallen our idol, ladies. John Cena got involved in a melee in a Boston bar, and he got several puncture wounds. There is a segment in WWE's official website where fans can send their get well wishes and he'll be able to read it as soon as he convalesces. Last I heard, he was recovering. So send yours, I already sent mine a few minutes ago.**

**My prayers are on him. Read this chapter for a while.(gets tissue)**

**FCK YOU CARLITO CARRIBEAN COOL!!!!**

"So what do you want to do now, _esse_?" Eddie asked, his voice carrying over the noise in the mall. The two of us sat on an empty bench, and backing up, I sat down a little lower, my legs simply giving out.

"You're asking me?" I said, surprised. "I think you've exhausted this place long enough."

Eddie motioned from his shopping bag, holding his short sleeved madras shirt that he bought earlier. "Obviously."

The party after the Eagles' win last night had gone on forever, and I'd spent most of this morning sleeping it off. It had been fun, of course, and there had been a lot more spreading of rumors that I'm gonna be the next MVP. I doubted it, but it'll definitely an honor. By the time I had left, my head pounding and my clothes reeking of cigarette smoke, I already decided that I wouldn't go to another one this year anymore. Besides, it was always the same. There were a lot of conceited guys bragging about how great they were and a lot of delusional girls sucking up to them.

Now, the Saturday afternoon was incredibly hot, and it gave me a nice idea to go and stroll around in a nice air-conditioned mall. I asked Rey to come with me, but he explained that he must go and visit his folks back home and turned down my last-minute invitation. Eddie was free today, so he went with me. After a few hours of walking around, my stomach started to rumble.

"I was thinking of going to Sam's Diner," I said, referring to a 50's style restaurant where both SC and RRC students hang out in this mall. For us, the diner stays at second place after The Danger Zone.

"You want to eat?" Eddie objected. "_I_ was thinking of going to a record store and buy a CD."

"Buy your CD, and I'll buy the food."

Eddie smirked. "Thanks _holmes_! I was actually going for your treat!"

The jackass ran off laughing, while I shook my head. "Damn it, Eddie..."

I skulked inside Sam's Diner and sat on an empty booth near the counter. The black-and-white checkerboard floor was as shiny as always, and the aroma of delicious food hung in the air. The jukebox on the other side of the room blared out oldies, mixing with the sounds of laughing and chatting from the teenagers. The waitress appeared and I placed two orders: fried chicken and an open-face steak sandwich complete with side dishes and refillable beverages. The waitress nodded and walked away while I waited for Eddie, my fingers tapping on the red table until they had a rhythm of their own.

Finally, Eddie walked inside the diner and looked around until he found me. He sat across me with a new shopping bag in hand.

"Hey, _holmes_," Eddie greeted me. "Was I gone that long?"

I shrugged. "You're not missing a thing."

"_Hora le_, Eduardo." a girl's sultry voice said behind our booth.

The voice belonged to Vicky Taylor. Today, RRC's drama club phenomenon was wearing a frilly white blouse and a green wraparound skirt—nothing really loud. She let her long dark strands of hair fall dramatically into place, and her skin was also smooth and creamy. Vicky was short—probably 5"4, but it was impossible to think of her as any other than _petite._

"Hi there, my little drama queen," said Eddie, checking her out. "Looking good."

Vicky giggled, her little apple cheeks flushed. Eddie reached over to poke her in the ribs. She squirmed, but instead of twisting away, she threw herself into his arms. Eddie already introduced Vicky to me since the very first semester, but I was still in the same awe that a loon like Eddie knew a babe like Vicky. Until I saw the kiss Vicky laid on his lips...

There was absolutely no space between their bodies. Eddie's hands were everywhere, and Vicky was practically climbing into his lap. I suddenly realized that I stopped breathing. I averted my eyes and sucked in air as the blood flooded into my cheeks. For fuck's sake, even in Sam's Diner.

Not that I was embarrassed. Not really. It just seemed so wrong, perhaps, sitting across a kissing couple. I feel so out of place. They finally broke their lip lock and my breathing started to go back in normal places.

Vicky glanced at me, her brown eyes going misty. "What's wrong John? So red all of a sudden."

I gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine," I said, grateful to spot the meal arriving. I got the chicken, and Eddie chose the sandwich. I dug the down-home meal, wolfing down the food as if I haven't eaten for weeks.

Vicky helped herself to Eddie's fries while he sipped his shake. "That was a great game last night! I can't believe you guys did it."

"Well, everything was just so smooth last night, you know?" I gloated. "My catching, my running. Everything clicked. I was just so...smooth."

She nodded. "I know. Half of the RRC girls who had just watched the game last night are falling for you."

I smiled noncommittally and sighed. "So many girls..."

"Vicky's serious, _holmes_," Eddie reminded me. "It was great to see the end of the Lions' reign. That was _real_ smooth"

Vicky laughed. "Yeah, sure. Anyway I just came out here to tell you about our new play. It's called _Autumn of the 70's_."

She handed us flyers and saw the play will be held at the upcoming Spring Night. Vicky had the lead role, as usual, as a painter who is considered as a terminal patient with leukemia that made her life unromantic. That had to be really awesome.

"You guys _will _come at Spring Night, right?" Vicky asked.

"Of course we will," Eddie replied. "I know it would kill you without me there."

Vicky blushed, while I pretended to gag. I noticed a few girls calling Vicky from our table.

"Oops, gotta go," Vicky said quickly. "Play practice."

"I'll call you later, my pretty," Eddie said. Vicky flashed him a smile and wiggled her fingers over one shoulder.

They were a cute couple, an innocent bystander would think. Anyone could tell that they liked each other. A lot.

Eddie had five girlfriends, got dumped three times, but of all those women, he was able to make a real relationship last with Vicky. Eddie first met her at fall, when the RRC started their new play of the year entitled _Blankets_, where she portrayed a nerdy yet sensitive vegetarian. Vicky's performance was great, but the whole thing made Eddie fall head-over-heels with her. Now, I kept telling Eddie that he _might_ be in love with the character Vicky was playing, but when he introduced himself to her almost way too quickly and and asked her out, and she _even_ said yes, I've been so wrong.

At least, Eddie dated her not only for her looks. Vicky was happy, down-to-earth, and a friend to everyone. But if you actually see them together, you will start thinking something like "Woah! That Latino jackass was smart to _snag_ her!"

Hey, don't look at me. Go figure.

Eddie suddenly sighed and licked his lips. "I still can't believe I bagged her. It seems so...unreal."

I gave him a dirty look. "You can tell me that. With the two of you making out, you're making everybody run for a fire drill."

Eddie smiled wryly. "Oh? Then why are you red, _esse_? You're not the one doing it."

My face was still hot enough to fry pancakes on, so I stood up abruptly, taking my milkshake glass with me. "I think I'll go for a free refill."

I walked off, Eddie's laughter pelting in my back, but it's only Eddie, and I can always shoot him later.

I gave my milkshake glass to a pimply, redheaded teenager on the counter, but instead of going to the blender and making a milkshake like a normal person, he just stared at the glass as if it was going to bite him. I tapped my foot on the polished floor, impatient.

"Uh, sir? You're glass is still half-full." the boy said.

I stared him down, and then realized he was right. Going to this counter and having an encounter with this geek was merely an excuse to leave the table from my lingering embarrassment.

Really, idiot, idiot. Stupid.

"Yeah? Ever considered looking at it closely?" I said, making it up as I spoke. "I think I tasted a fly in there."

The boy peered to the glass. "I see no fly, sir."

I looked at his name tag. His name was _AJAX_. I wanted to laugh out loud. This poor boy was going to get it.

"Look, you've got about ten seconds to fill up that glass or I'm gonna stuff you with cleanser. Oh wait, you're already one."

A few people snickered from their work stations, while Ajax turned red. "Right away, sir." Then he scurried off.

Ruthless teasing. Works every time.

Ajax went back with a fresh chocolate shake. I fished out ten dollars from my back pocket and pushed it towards him.

"Sir, the shake's free of charge." Ajax mumbled.

"It's a tip. Take it before I change my mind." I insisted.

"Really, sir. I don't want it."

"I insist. Now take it, Mr. Clean."

Ajax absolutely beamed. He looked at his ten dollars now, lifting his prize to the light. "Thank you, sir."

I walked off, sipping my shake as I made my way back to the table. My thoughts were interrupted by the welcome sight of Torrie Wilson crossing to the counter.

Her blond hair was shining, her expression as cool as ice cream. Somehow I felt as if the whole room was watching. I stared at her, my shake forgotten. Time stopped, all the unnecessary noises disappeared, but the only sound I heard was the jukebox, blaring out an old familiar song:

_Why do birds suddenly appear?_

_Every time you are near_

_Just like me_

_They long to be_

_Close to you_

_Why do stars fall down from the sky?_

_Every time you walk by_

_Just like me_

_They long to be_

_Close to you_

"Hey holmes! Watch out!" I heard Eddie yell.

The next sound I heard were clattering plates and utensils, and the next thing I saw was a waitress giving me an accusing look. My head snapped back to reality, and I felt a cold, wet chill on my belly. What did just happen?

The clattering sound was actually the full tray of food the waitress was carrying. I happened to bump her, which set all the gourmet dishes into disgusting ooze on the floor. Oh, and the chill on my belly? That was the shake, already making an ugly brown splash on my new Red Sox sweater. My eyes went to the harried-looking waitress, then back at my soggy clothes.

"Are you all right, sir?" the waitress asked with obvious concern.

Not wanting to hear another word, I immediately raced my steps to the men's bathroom before anyone saw anything. Luckily, the shiny, white-tiled room was immaculately empty, so I locked the door shut. After a few deep breaths, I walked to the sinks and examined myself in the mirror. I silently groaned.

When my face was once red as tomatoes, it immediately turned pale as flour. My eyes were sallow and glazed over. I slapped my face a couple of times.

Did I just look tired or is it just me?

I shrugged, opened the faucet and washed the bottom part of my sweater with hand sanitizers to clean the stain, but it was no use. The brown color started to spread even more so to the top, looking like it was some victim of roadkill. Sighing, I took off my sweater, thankful that I wore a navy, tight-fitting shirt inside. I backed up a few steps, surveying my reflection to the mirror, cursing to myself.

Why is it that whenever I see Torrie I always end up looking stupid? First, this. What's next? My funeral?

My eyes returned to the mirror and shook my head. Is this what a person feels like when he likes someone? Giddy yet stupid-looking? If that's what it is, I don't like it at all.

I must be really—and I mean _really_…uh…screwed.

After my cheeks returned to a fairly normal color, I walked out the bathroom and propped myself acroos Eddie on the booth. He flashed me a cynical smile, which gave me the creeps.

"What happened to you, _holmes_?" Eddie asked innocently as if he didn't know. Then he looked at the counter from where Torrie stands, then back at me with a doubly cynical smile. "Oh…I get it."

I rolled my sweater into a fat little sausage and stuffed it in my front throwbacks pocket, glaring at Eddie the whole while.

"I'm warning you Eddie…"

"Don't be such a wet towel, John." Eddie joked. "I have seen her around and I do admit she is pretty cute, but isn't she a _wee_ bit off your league?"

Million retorts sprang into my mind, but I managed to say only one. "Then why did you date her, Eddie? After you're little one-on-one last summer, I'm sure you remember."

Eddie only smirked. "I guess were even, then."

"_Even_?" I screeched. "At least I'm not dumb enough to ask her out when she's still becoming a freshman."

"Dumb enough?" Eddie echoed. "Don't you mean _man_ enough?"

I didn't say anything. He was obviously hinting that I can't do it.

"Don't get me wrong, John. Yeah, Torrie Wilson is a good kisser, but other than that she's a _very_ good girl. She didn't want to have sex until she's married."

I stared at him, stunned. "She wasn't banged by anyone yet? What did you do?"

Eddie shrugged. "I respected her decision. We've been on dates, a few smooches, but that's about it."

I went silent again.

"You don't have to panic, _holmes_." Eddie said immediately. "It's not like you're in love with a slut or anything. Other than Vicky, Torrie's one of the nicest girls I ever met."

"Love!" I exclaimed wistfully. "I'd settle for _like_ and a movie."

Eddie snorted. "How cheap."

"Oh, now what's this? The Springville Inquisition?"

"I wasn't thinking of anything!"

I couldn't think of a comeback. "You're no help, Eddie." I said instead.

Eddie's eyes were wide, then he laid a hand on my shoulder. "You really want to know what your problem is, John?"

I grunted. "Please tell me."

"You don't trust anyone. You happy now, ice king?"

"Yeah. Thanks a lot."

Eddie was right. And I hate it when he's always right. Because when he's right I always felt useless to speak. Silence descended once again on the table as he returned to finishing his food, while I toyed the green beans with my fork.

What is love, anyway? Never felt it, never wanted it. I'm the kind who believes in superficial stuff unless I experience it.

Other than that, is this _love_ the feeling I have for Torrie? Or is she just some well-formed molecule that I constantly thought of and constantly fought over by every perv?

Or: does she even think of me? If she does, then what? I'd have a rosebush in a wasteland, a jewel set on tin. In other words, not much. She must think I'm an insensitive dweeb.

Whoopee. Wouldn't anyone just love that?

"Maybe that's it," I suddenly said. "I'm just infatuated. I must be."

Eddie gave me an incredulous look. "Infatuated? You think that's what you look like?"

"Oh, don't have it so tough. You almost stalked Vicky the last time when—"

"It's not stalking when you're in love, _holmes_."

"Yeah? That's not what the victims in juvie say."

Eddie rubbed his palms together, the breadcrumbs littering in his plate. "That's just about enough then. Ready to go?"

I stood up and slipped my hands into my back pockets, starting to walk ahead. "Whatever."

We walked out the diner and went past the toy stores to the antique shops. The sarcasm and the adrenaline wore off every minute as I walked alongside Eddie, feeling relaxed than ever.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you something, _esse_," Eddie blurted out. "More cheesy talk."

"Perfect." I muttered. "Where did it come from this time?"

"Angle. He tried to look for you at the party last night but you already left."

"What about?"

"The new recruits are going to be introduced on Monday. Small program, the whole student body involved. It's gonna be held at lunchtime in the school cafeteria."

I nodded mutely, but I noticed Eddie was looking at me expectantly.

I felt distracted. "What?"

Eddie shrugged, all false innocence. "Don't you get it, John? Angle's gonna get us bored to death if every one of them recruits from Red River are going to introduce themselves."

I didn't get it. "So?"

He shrugged again. "I was kind of thinking of you planning some of your nasty tricks on them. Just to get things, well, you know…lively."

I shook my head. "I don't even know what to think anymore. I'd rather eat lunch at the bleachers."

"You think so?" Eddie asked.

"Better fried than dead."

But deep down in my gut, Eddie had a point. Shouldn't I, John Cena, football stud extraordinaire, think of something that would serve as a threat to the whole school? That's the way it always has been at the start of the schoolyear.

Like the time I when I stole a "human hand' from the criminology group of SC and placed it on Paul Heyman's table last Halloween.

And the time when I hired a midget to mimic Kurt Angle as a present on his last birthday party.

Oh, and the other time when I asked the daughter of the Big Boss, Stephanie McMahon, to pull the tube top off the cheerleader Sable, the one who was rumored sleeping with Vinnie Mac himself.

Yeah…that had been a whole lot of fun. I've been so full of myself back then, in fact that the whole student population asked for more. It was like the meaner I get, the more popular I become. Their reverse psychology is pathetic.

Now I could barely think of anything to do to them. I hate myself.

"Why don't you do the honors, Eddie?" I said, feeling generous all of a sudden. "I bet you have thousands of plots in that thick head of yours."

Eddie only shook his head, an easy smile on his face. "No, I'll just let this thing slide. It would be better if I let them breathe tomorrow."

"Lumpy lectured you, right?"

"More like threatened!"

I laughed out loud, Eddie joining on cue. We didn't even notice that we're already at the secluded section of the mall. There were bargain sale stalls, health food restaurants, and small cloth stores.

But what caught our attention was a sex paraphernalia shop on the far corner.

"Thinking of buying the Playmates' special?" Eddie quipped.

I gave him an irritated look. "You know I don't read any of that stuff."

"Oh? Then what are you going to think about _that_?"

My eyes followed the direction from where Eddie's finger was pointing. It was a hot pink poster screaming from the glass windows, belonging there for everyone to read. I winced as I read the words posted on it in heavy black marker.

50 off sex toys.

"Lesbian and gay artifacts for sale? So?"

Eddie flashed me a canary-eating grin. "Any bright ideas, _holmes_?"

At first my mind was the plainest blank as ever. Then it hit me.

My eyes widened. I _have_ a plan. A plan that Eddie didn't know. A plan that would make the recruits' first night here as hellish as it could be. I smirked as I started to walk inside the sex shop.

"Well…there _is_ one thing…"

(t.b.c.)


	8. A Day of Surprises

**I'm so sorry for the waiting...my fucking PC's having a problem. Plus...I ran out of prepaid (I'm not really rich, you know.)**

**Here's Chapter 8! Enjoy its lameness!**

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

"Thank you, Mr. Jindrak," Angle announced over the microphone. "You may now take your seat."

The stoner bowed from the podium built on the front of the school cafeteria and took his seat with the draftees lunch table. But there was no applause. Not really. There were a few nods and half-hearted shrugs, but that's about it. No hysterics. No loud cheers. Everyone was bored to death that Monday lunchtime.

"This is taking forever," Rey whispered, twiddling his fingers in his lap. "I wish we had lunch at the bleachers."

"I wished it even more," Eddie told him.

I tuned out their continuing conversation while I yawned. I leaned back in my chair, wondering if my eyes were really glazing over or if it only felt that way. Last night, Eddie both hustled me and Rey to the dormitory common room. I spilled the beans to Rey about the "welcome" that I was going to give to the new recruits, and he seemed particularly thrilled. After researching the RRC draftees one by one, it took us until midnight to study them, but later on we decided that we should meet them in person. The three of us stumbled sleepily to our rooms, completely exhausted, but when I got to bed, I slept like a little boy.

Now...I've been wrong. The lack of sleep made me feel like I was hit with a baseball bat or pretty much ran over by a truck. And then there was the evidence of the clothes I was wearing. Looking down at the outfit I had carelessly pulled out of the closet without much consideration, I shook my head. Would any sane person wear a sleeveless shirt in such an air-conditioned facility?

At least, this day didn't turn out exactly as I expected. The warm weather had suited my mood perfectly, and the first classes ran as smoothly as ever. Even Rey and Eddie complimented my outfit with the perfect amount of sincerity. In fact, they aren't the only ones who have noticed. The entire female population of SC had been drooling.

I shook off imaginary lint from my top and looked down in my outfit again. Today's trends consists of a loose black Johnson jersey, faded gray throwbacks, and my infamous character symbols; my black sunvisor, black Reeboks, and my ever present padlock chains. I drew an exasperated breath and sunk down in my chair, feeling impatient.

"I hope we are all right about those researches," Eddie said.

Rey looked like he was gonna fall off the chair any minute. "I hope this is not worth skipping lunch, J."

"Relax. I know what I'm doing," I reminded them for the nth time. "I'll find the perfect victim. And I'm telling you, Rey. If you get out of here right now, it's not even worth it."

Rey's only reply was a shrug.

I sat straighter in my chair, patting "the prize" that I stuffed in my pocket earlier. I closed my free hand to my chains. I can hardly wait.

"And now, the last but not least," Angle announced. "Rene Dupree!"

I strained my eyes and saw the final guy stand up and walk to the podium, a white poodle trotting along his side and the flag of France in his other hand.

So that was suckers look like. Bleached blond hair, uneven skin tone, and he's even overly muscular for a freshman.

I smiled inwardly. He's perfect.

"_N' ayez paz peur, _SC!" Dupree bellowed. "I'm the French phenom Rene Dupree!"

His voice came out unintentionally priggish, and the audience let him know it, snorting and sniggering in their tables. Dupree didn't seem to notice it as he started to ramble on his achievements in RRC. Eddie and Rey were both snickering, making fun of Dupree's French accent, while I just waited for the right time to take action. My plan's going on top speed.

"That is all. Thank you for listening, SC!" Dupree concluded. He started to wave the French flag until the whole cafeteria started the USA chant.

I stood up abruptly from the original football team's table. Now's the time.

Eddie seemed to notice my actions. "Take your time out there, _holmes_!"

I nodded and started to walk to the podium. My music began blaring out on the boom box as the audience began to scream their appreciation.

_Word life! This the basic thuganomics..._

I went in front of Dupree and grabbed a microphone myself. The French fry looked surprised as he stopped waving his flag. Angle was below the podium, beginning to get angry.

"Get your scrawny ass down there, Cena!" Angle hissed.

I smirked and pretended I didn't hear him. The crowd eventually quieted down a little. I raised one arm, motioning the whole room around me.

"Welcome to Springville!"

The whole student body cheered, showing their explicit love for school spirit. Dupree shrugged, unaware he was in trouble. I noticed Tazz and Michael Cole applauding from the journalist's lunch table at the far end of the podium.

"This is where the franchise play," I continued in my rapper's accent. "That's Tazz...he a thug..."

I pointed to Tazz, and the bald guy gave me the "what's up" signal. Then I pointed to the man next to him. "...and that's Michael Cole...he's gay."

I saw Tazz laugh, while Cole merely shook his head. I spoke up again.

"There are a few things ya need to know...I'm here to keep you prepared, bro. First, don't leave your watch and your wallet anywhere near Eddie Guerrero. Fool pickpocketed me like five times, he still owes me 50 bucks he still got my ID!"

The people laughed appreciatively at the gibe, and I noticed Eddie was cracking up as well. Eddie was known in both schools as a liar, a cheater, and a thief, but he does this for the comic relief of everybody. This is why he became so popular.

I smiled. "Anyway...this the most important thing but you'll remember this one's easy. Don't go nowhere near a bathroom after Big Show or Rikishi! They got that funk like something up and died in..."

The crowd laughed again, louder this time. Paul "Big Show" Wight and Solofa "Rikishi" Fatu. Jr. were both the largest (or should I say fattest) of the football club and they always play as defenses, and right now I could imagine both of them chopping off a lunch table here somewhere. I guess I'll have to explain to them later. Then I noticed Dupree...well..._eyeing_ me.

"Get your eyes off my equipment, I don't care how bad you want some," I immediately said. "This chain ain't for yankin' and don't touch my Magic Johnson!"

An excited murmur swept through the whole cafeteria—the other students were apparently starting to find the exchange pretty fascinating. And up 'til now Dupree still hadn't said a word.

"Those French folk got their own thing, ya know I ain't gonna judge but that's you, you do you, I do me...you know what I'm saying?"

The confusion was starting to show on Dupree's face, mumbling something in French.

I raised my arm again, this time motioning to the audience. "I'd introduce you to these fans, but it's obvious they want none of you. They say that France sucks, plus they throwin' out the _W_!"

I made the _W_ sign with my hands, causing the audience to applaud with shouts and cheers. I took my mic back to my mouth and spoke up.

"This would be a good time for you to leave, don't let the door hit you when it shuts," I said, ready to conclude. "Oh! I've got something you can do, man..."

I fished out the prize from my pocket—one of the plastic covered dildos that I bought at the mall that Saturday. I held it up for everyone to see as the audience went awestruck.

"Choke on deez' nuts!" I boomed out. Then, I threw it right on his chest.

The simmering audience erupted into a boil—howls of laughter bounced through the walls of the whole room. I gradually took my seat next to Rey and Eddie, who were both laughing and congratulating me at the same time.

"J! That was great!" Rey told me.

Eddie smiled. "Best of all pranks. You have to give it up for the master, _esse_."

As I watched, Dupree picked up the dildo on the podium floor, stared at it, then threw it somewhere on the audience. He walked down the podium and stormed out of the cafeteria doors, a red-faced ape. Everyone cheered, accompanied by jeers and laughter.

Until Kurt Angle took the mic.

"So much for that interruption," Angle said loudly when the hubbub died down. "I have an announcement from Principal Vince McMahon."

Everyone strained to listen.

"Now as you all know, the Springville Eagles' former General Manager Paul Heyman had decided to quit after being drafted to Red River College last week. Which leaves us to the thought: Who is the new GM of the Eagles?" Angle stated. "Luckily, Mr. McMahon had just told me that the new General Manager was someone with class. Someone who knows what to do in any kind of calamity. Someone who has manners and is well respected by everyone."

Great. Another surprise.

"Who do you think it's gonna be?" Rey whispered.

"I hope we have a girl GM this time." Eddie said.

"Angle has to spit this all out." I muttered.

"Therefore, the Springville Eagles' new General Manager is..." Angle said, pausing to scare the people.

The crowd listened in utter silence. The suspense was killing me.

"Me. Kurt Angle."

(t.b.c)


	9. Secrets Revealed

Haaaay...Finally I updated!

I got to read some reviews, and to that someone who asked, there'll be more of Cena and Torrie together in the next few chapters. So better watch out!

Here's Chapter 9. Enjoy!

"Touchdown!"

The whistle broke out, joining with all the noises and cheers in the RRC football stadium. The Lions have yet won another game against the Clearwater Muskrats this Friday afternoon, a week after our victory against them. The brawlers were laughing and jumping, happy with yet another win.

I applauded, trying to block the thoughts already surging in my head. Kurt Angle, believe or not, was the new GM of the Eagles for the rest of the semester. Going back to Monday's lunchtime in the school cafeteria, Lumpy just announced his very first project; The Great American Award, something he had won for three years straight for his...erm, _"excellence in sports and character."_ Polls have started this week and it will be announced later in the SC auditorium, then the winner will be announced in two weeks on Spring Night—a joint SC and RRC party that will take place in the fancy hotel, The Halsey Manor Lodge. The trophy was actually presented on that very same day, complete with red, white, blue stripes with a polished gold color and our school emblem; a bald eagle in a flying pose on top. It was something someone would likely _kill_ to possess.

But Kurt Angle? As our General Manager? Would that mean _I_ will be working under _him_? Vinnie Mac had to be halfway crocked.

Then my lunacy took over me as usual. I didn't know what came over me but by the time class was over, I turned down Eddie and Rey's offers to put caramel Jell-O in the draftees' lockers, went to RRC on foot, and then watched the game of the RRC Lions. Now, after all this, lunacy is _considered_ a possibility.

I stood up and followed the other people lining up to the stairs on the "away" bleachers, then walked to the stadium's hallways where the locker rooms are. I checked my watch to see if there was another bus ride I can catch up into. I hung my head down when I noticed few RRC students passing by. I would just be _glad_ to get noticed.

But it just so happens that I bumped into someone, hard in the shoulders. Pain sharply coursed through me as I ran my hand through my shoulders. I would like to add I was near the Lions' locker room that time, so anything can happen.

"Ow! Son of a bitch..." a growly voice said.

My hand suddenly felt frozen to my shoulders. The voice seemed familiar. Then I looked up and knew it was true. It was Hunter Helmsley, along with his little jerks, Batista, Flair, and Orton.

I swallowed hard. Evolution.

"Well...look what we have here," Hunter said in an acid tone of voice. "It's John Sweeney, Springville's little quarterback."

I rolled my eyes. "It's _Cena_."

Hunter grinned crookedly. "It's the same thing when you're coming from the SC Chickens."

I saw Dave Batista snicker. Flair let out another "WOOOH!" Glaring at each one of them, I tapped my foot impatiently as they blocked my way.

"Really, you guys. This is just immature," I said as I took a step forward. "I need to get out of here. I have an appointment..."

But Hunter was a really stubborn ass, intervening me with a hand on my chest. I could imagine him piercing it right through me. That _had_ to hurt.

"Not so fast, junior," he said. "You're not getting out of here until we find out what you want."

I shrugged. "I just came here to watch the game."

Hunter looked like he didn't buy the story. "No? You're Angle's stooge, aren't you? You came here to spy on us."

Okay...that statement pricked me right in the ears. I shifted my weight unconsciously on one foot, and I harshly removed Hunter's sticky fingers from my chest. Hunter was slightly confused.

"No, I am not Lumpy's stooge," I jeered. "I won't even have the right mind to spy on _you_! I'm not your one of your bitches, Helmsley! You ought to know that!"

I heard my own voice rise with contradiction from every word I said, and then I saw Hunter's face shook with anger. Like I said, what is wrong with saying something that is true? Bedding whores, not really caring about their feelings at all because all he ever desired was gold. I know I myself am rotten to the bone, but what he does takes the word "rotten" to a whole new level.

"You take that back," he drawled. "When you're talking to The Game, you ought to get to the point just like everybody else in these here parts of Red River."

I laughed sarcastically. "Point?! What _point_? Because the only _point_ I see here is the one on your forehead, pencil neck."

Hunter grabbed me by the bottom of my neck, almost carrying me up. "Who told you to talk like that, you punk ass bitch?! You really want some?!"

I spoke before I tried to pry his hands off my neck. "Bring it on, wrinkles!"

"Hunter, that's enough."

The deep, unbiased voice interrupted Hunter from punching me right in the face. I looked at the guy from behind Hunter and realized this was the only time he spoke.

It was Randy Orton.

"Shut up, Randy," said Hunter, not letting go of me. "This kid is my business."

"Yeah, your business is to mope around because you lost from our team. All thanks to me." I muttered.

Randy approached Hunter, clad in a red letterman jacket, jeans, and a pair of grey Nike Shox. He was tall, about six foot four, his tan skin contrasting with the light blues of his eyes and his freshly washed spiky dark brown hair. He was no doubt, one of the best looking guys in RRC. Probably the whole neighborhood.

"Just put him down," Randy regarded him calmly. He laid a condescending hand on Hunter's shoulder, a slip of his tattoo peeking out from his sleeve. "He's really not worth beating down."

Batista and Flair gave each other strange looks. I saw Hunter's eyes bore down to Randy's, and then he finally put me down. I rubbed my neck, imagining the bruise. Hunter faced Randy and tapped the taller guy in the back.

"Take care of Sweeney for us, will you Randy?" Hunter ordered. "We have hot dates waiting for us at the Danger Zone."

Randy nodded. "No problem. I'll catch up to you guys later."

Hunter walked to the exit, Batista and Flair following him in his heels. I was left face to face with the youngest member of Evolution, towering above me in his full height. Randy smirked, his sharp features joining with his smitten expression.

"Okay Sweeney," Randy began. "Ready for an all-time beating?"

I scowled at him. "It's _Cena_, you moron."

We glared at each other through the seriousness of our expressions. Then, a few seconds later, we threw our heads back and laughed.

"That was a good one," he said. "Man, you really suck."

I pushed him playfully. "Same goes to you, Orton."

We both walked off from the football stadium then to the RRC parking lot. Randy stood and leaned from a light post and looked around while I stood next to him. I looked behind me and stared at the Red River College Building. Unlike our school's light marble, dark sloping roof complete with turf and different kinds of flowers, Red River ranged in brown bricks and flat/black clapboard rooftop with lush green trees and wild grass. Two different buildings, same owners. Yeah...

"Who are you waiting for?" I asked Randy.

"My limo," Randy said casually.

I clicked my tongue. "Right. Spoiled princes like you just just wait for their flashy cars while the peasants just memorize bus schedules."

A shiny black limousine loomed into view, a few meters away from where we are standing on. Randy smirked at me again.

"We study on exclusive schools, so there won't be a peasant around here, and you're telling me you don't have a car?" he said incredulously.

I shrugged, thinking that I made myself clear.

Randy looked at me expectantly. "Want a lift?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You won't mind?"

"Of course," Randy said cockily.

I only nodded gratefully. The chauffeur hopped out from the driver's seat and opened the door. I went inside the limo while Randy ordered the chauffeur to head straight to Springville College.

The interior of the limo was really luxurious, a free cable TV hanged on the front, and a mini-refrigerator propped on one side. There even was a Danger Zone pizza box laden on a table near our seats. I sunk down to the warmth of the leather seat, barely noticing Randy sitting down next to me as the chauffeur shut the door, went back to driver's seat, and drove the limo to SC.

"Want a drink?" Randy offered, opening his refrigerator.

"Sure."

Randy peered through the refrigerator, the fog spilling on the car floor. "I only have sodas here."

I thought for a moment. "Do you have red Dr. Pepper?"

Randy extracted a shiny red can from the refrigerator and slammed it shut, then tossed the can at me like a football. "Only the best."

I smiled as I popped open the Dr. Pepper can and gulped down its contents, feeling the carbonated drink fizz from my insides. Randy, on the other hand, opened the pizza box, revealing about an 18-inch size pepperoni and cheese. Randy grabbed a slice and took a big bite out of it. I watched some TV myself, and it is another episode of South Park.

"Mmmm...nothing beats Danger Zone's pizza," Randy said through chews.

"Hey! Quit hogging it all!" I objected.

Randy suddenly pushed the whole box to me. "Who's the real hog on both of us, eh John?"

I threw an empty Dr. Pepper can in Randy's direction, but he ducked too quickly.

"He shoots, he scores!" I exclaimed.

"Damn man. You are dangerous." Randy grumbled.

"You started it, genius." I said, grabbing a slice for myself and started nibbling on it. Then I looked back at the TV again and saw Eric Cartman accidentally killing Kenny by throwing him to the lawnmower. "I can't believe you're still into this, Randy. this is kid stuff."

"Why? We're still pretty much children ourselves," Randy returned. "Unless you want to switch to SpongeBob Squarepants..."

"Please do."

If there was any other person I could trust, it was Randy. We've known each other since sixth grade, but due to peers and encountering adolescence, we separated; Randy applying in Red River while I applied at Springville. Then again, Randy was _always_ popular. Girls had been in love with him his whole life, while I never even got a second look. Until I lost my braces, grew taller and more muscular...God knows. I mean look at _me_. But our change of personalities never stopped our getting along. Maybe because we're the same. I don't know...

Like I said, both SC and RRC are good in spreading different kinds of cheesy rumors, and if anyone important would notice me and Randy together would cause another silly issue, you know him being a member of Evolution and all that. I never even told Eddie and Rey about this at all. Yet.

Randy drank his own soda, then he licked his lips and smiled cynically. "Heard that Kurt Angle became your new GM."

I pretended to look surprised. "So RRC's a little fishbowl too. Where did you hear it from?"

"Actually, you should be asking _who_."

"Okay then. Who?"

Randy gave me a strange look. "Who else? Hunter!"

"_Hunter_?!" I said disbelievingly.

I was baffled. What does the leader of Evolution have against Lumpy? The two of them stood on their own territory, no matter how foolish it really is. How would the two of them make contact with each other?

Randy seemed to notice my confusion. "Aw, man...you didn't know?"

Now I really _was_ confused. "Know what?"

Randy leaned over as if it was such a major secret. "Captain America was once in a love triangle with Hunter and Stephanie McMahon."

Stephanie McMahon was the principal's daughter. I met her last summer, but she was already graduated that time. She even did me a favor, stripping off the tube top of Sable, the girl who was rumored sleeping with his very own father. And whenever I see Stephanie, there was no sign of a boyfriend.

"Wait a minute. What do you mean a love triangle?" I said incredulously. "Stephanie was Hunter's girlfriend? When the hell did that happen?"

"Actually, it kind of happened three years ago," Randy answered. "Hunter was still in SC that time. He and Stephanie was an item back then. Both of them were one power couple in SC. The two of them are so close; Principal McMahon already started to arrange their marriage when they both graduate."

Randy paused, and then continued. "Everything had been fine back then, until Kurt Angle came to the picture. It was like love-at-first-sight for the bulbhead, you know. Hunter eventually found out, and that was where the war began. After that it was always fighting, fighting, fighting. It lasted for two years."

I felt shocked. No one—and I mean _no_ one—ever told me any these things before. "What happened next?"

"Apparently Stephanie saw Hunter's true colors so she dumped him. Hunter really went awol, and even more so when he found out he was transferring to RRC. He finally seemed to have gotten over it at our summer training when he picked me, Flair, Batista, and we became Evolution; the most feared group in the football scene. Paid, laid, and made, baby."

I leaned back in my seat, stunned. "What a soap opera."

Randy laughed, and then suddenly turned serious. "Yeah...some soap it was. Ric told me everything that had happened, and after all that, I was like 'whoa.' But it really did make me think. Hunter just loved her, I guess. And I know Stephanie loves him too. Things have gotten kind of, well...twisted."

I shook my head. "Just like the Meat Loaf song. Anyone would do anything for love."

"Oh! Is that the 'I Would Do Anything for Love' song?" Randy said, bursting into spontaneous singing. "_Oh, I would do anything for love, but I won't_—''

'Yeah. That stupid song." I interrupted him. Randy's tone deaf—you don't want to hear him sing.

Randy took off his jacket, revealing a black Rolling Stones shirt. He threw his jacket somewhere inside the limo. "So...what's Angle's first project anyway?"

I leaned back in my seat, gradually relaxing. "The Great American Award."

Randy nodded. "Oh, the usuals. When will the winner be announced?"

"On Spring Night."

"Ah...the joint party between SC and RRC," Randy breathed. "You picked a date yet?"

Please—I was beyond caring. "No."

"Well, why don't you start now?"

"Heh. I'm not like a certain someone who an already pick from the ones lining up."

Randy smirked. "I don't use my looks for nothing."

"You're such a skirt chaser."

"Come on. A thug such as yourself never had any admirers? Please."

I snorted. "They admire me, but I don't admire them."

Randy examined his tattoo on his right arm, a dreamy smile on his face. "There is actually someone in your school that I really want to ask out."

"Really?" I asked curiously. "Who?"

Randy furrowed his dark brows, his face scrunched up in deep thought. I forgot what her name was. Torrie something or other."

I slowly turned my head and fixed my dazed expression on him. "You mean Torrie Wilson, right?"

"Yup, that's the one. Man, you've got it made, going to the same school with her. It may not seem like it, but Dave's actually drooling over her too, you know."

I went silent.

Randy noticed my torn expression. "Why have you gone quiet?"

I didn't say anything. Slowly, a grin made its way to Randy's features.

"Ah, I get it. You like her, don't you?"

"No." I immediately said.

"Yes! Yes you do!" Randy insisted.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

I scowled. "Damn it, Randy. You tricked me!"

Randy held his hands up. "Okay, I know you're not saying anything, but you know its okay for me. Why don't _you_ try asking Torrie out? Even if I did it myself, I doubt she'll say yes, with all that 'stay on your territory' crap."

"Oh sure," I drawled sarcastically. "Like that'll ever happen! What if she says no?"

"What if she said yes?" Randy countered.

I thought about that until we were finally a block away from the SC campus. The chauffeur opened the door, and I stepped out the limo, my sneakers planted firmly on the pavement. Then I looked back at Randy.

"Thanks for the ride."

Randy smiled knowingly. "Anytime. Oh, and John?"

"What?"

"Think about what I said. What if she said yes. Got that?"

"Sure, dawg."

"Take of yourself, bro." Randy called.

The chauffeur closed the door, and the black limousine whisked away from our territory in a heartbeat. I started to walk and walk, until I finally made my way inside the school campus. I headed straight to the path leading to the school auditorium.

"John? John, is that you?"

I looked up and saw Rey running up to me. Any normal stranger would know something was up.

"There you are!" Rey said, looking relieved. "I've been looking everywhere for you, J. You have no idea."

"Well...I'm here now," I said. "What's up?"

"The nominees for the GAA have already been chosen," Rey said breathlessly.

"Who are they?"

"There's that dreadlock dude from RRC Booker Huffman, sophomore Charlie Haas, Big Show, and you."

My eyes widened. "Me? I was nominated?"

"Like you didn't expect it!" Rey joked.

"Wait, hold up. You said all the nominees' names, right? That makes the four of us. I thought there were five nominees."

Rey started to walk inside the auditorium. "That is why Kurt organized a little program. He's going to announce the 5th one."

I followed Rey's heels. "Must be you, or even Eddie."

Rey shook his head. "Oh, I doubt that he's gonna be happy if that ever happens."

Frowning, I stared him down. "What do you mean?"

"Bradshaw did a running clothesline on Eddie while we were practice playing and almost broke his neck a few hours ago."

"Bradshaw?!" I screeched. "You...you are talking about a different Bradshaw, right?"

"Nope. No matter how big this school is there is only one Bradshaw, the same guy moping over Faarooq weeks ago. The worst part was, I couldn't find Eddie anywhere after that happened."

I opened the heavy stage doors and let myself in. "This I gotta see."

Rey and I took seats near the front of the stage and found that almost everyone was here, the others bringing some snacks like they're going to watch a horror flick instead of a little program, but it seems everyone heard about the Eddie/Bradshaw situation, and they knew something must be up.

Angle finally appeared on the stage with the Great American Award on a small card table. He took a microphone and the audience finally hushed.

Hmm. This had better be good.

"Before I announce the final nominee of the GAA, I would like to say a few words to a certain someone here," Angle announced, looking angry. "Eddie Guerrero, come on out!"

Eddie came out from the red curtains draping to the floor, a microphone on his hand and a scowl on his face.

"I don't know why Bradshaw—or even you hate me so much, _holmes_," Eddie began. "But since we hate each other so badly, why don't we settle this? Right here...right now!"

The crowd cheered, throwing their junk food in the air. The two men glared at each other for a few seconds until Angle held up his palm and backed off a few steps.

"I can't fight you, Eddie," Angle declared, obviously trying to regain control of him. "Look at me! I'm the General Manager. I didn't become something that you are."

"You?" Eddie grinned. "Please tell me."

"Read my lips: irresponsible. An irresponsible waste of time."

Eddie only laughed. "Irresponsible..."

"Yes, irresponsible!" Angle repeated.

"Come on, esse," Eddie nudged. "Just tell everyone out here who the 5th guy is, because I obviously know."

Protests came from the crowd, others trying to will that Eddie was the 5th nominee, but Angle didn't look convinced.

"Hold on a second there, _holmes_," Angle mocked. I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me choose you as the 5th nominee for my award."

Eddie only shrugged, innocently ignoring the _EDDIE_ chants coming from the audience.

"Well it's not you. I have chosen the right guy. Someone with a bright future ahead of them as you were stealing cars."

Angle faced the audience. "Presenting the 5th and final nominee for the Great American Award... John Bradshaw Layfield!"

The giant fire exit doors suddenly opened and a polished white long limousine came from the outside of the auditorium. A gold plate was on the grill, depicting the initials _JBL_, and yes, there were even a horns of a bull glued right to the hood, signifying him being a Texan native.

What a disaster.

Finally Bradshaw came into view, bursting through the limousine's sunroof. He was wearing a dark gray suit and a white cowboy hat, and he kept waving to the audience as if he was campaigning for US presidency. The crowd lustily booed him off, but he only flashed his toothy grin in return and continued to wave.

Great. This guy was almost crying over a loss of a friend a few weeks ago. Now he turned himself into a power hungry, power tripping bastard that has just formed himself a new fan club that no one would even dare to attend to.

I looked at Eddie. His eyes were narrowed straight ahead, but I could sense more turmoil than that. Hopefully, I know he'll be able to solve this problem by himself. Eddie didn't like anyone meddling in his affairs. I wish this would end in a proper way. A tall guy named Luther Reigns, who is possibly Angle's new stooge, gave Bradshaw a microphone of his own.

"Thank you, Mr. Angle," Bradshaw said through his mic. "And let me say to you, the Springville student body that I'm proud to accept this nomination of the Great American Award for an all-American such as myself, and I will guarantee victory to all of you, my football fans."

The crowd started the _EDDIE_ chants once again, this time Rey and I joined in. Bradshaw only smiled.

"That's very good, people," he said. "You're also allowed to chant my name. In fact...I could hear it right now. JBL!"

"Sucks!" the crowd returned.

"JBL!"

"Sucks!"

"JBL!"

"Sucks!"

"JBL!"

"Sucks!"

Bradshaw laughed, oblivious to the crowd's hatred over him. Angle shook his head.

Rey suppressed his laughter. "Is it me, or is this guy completely stupid. _Loco loco_ right to the head. Doesn't he even know that everyone but Angle hates him now?"

"Yeah, he's goddamned stupid, alright," I said sarcastically. "That Bradshaw doesn't even know who he's competing with."

"Really? You want to win?" Rey asked, amazed.

I paused. "Now that you mentioned it, yes. I do want to win. I think this GAA thing ain't so stupid after all."

"I doubt it, though," Rey said thoughtfully. "Even if you got the most votes after the polling, Angle will still have to choose the winner by his decision. And with all the bad blood that has been going on with you two the past couple of months..."

"Well fine. I'll make Lumpy like me?"

"Ohhhh...how?"

I thought long and hard, and came up with only one answer.

"I have no idea."

Rey laughed at my sarcasm while I snuffed and pouted and sank down in my seat. **(A/N: John Cena pouting? He would look really cute, just include puppy dog eyes!)** The rest of the crowd was still buzzing tart retorts on Bradshaw, while the goddamned stupid guy never left his limousine. He looked at the stage, started, then smiled widely again.

"Well, what do you know?" Bradshaw began. "It's Eddie Guerrero!"

The audience's eyes turned to Eddie. He stood there, forgotten, touching his neck, no doubt still feeling the effects of the vicious clothesline. A small, devilish smile formed on Eddie's face as Bradshaw continued to test his patience.

"I would just like to remind you about what happened a few hours ago were completely on the spot to make my well-known impact for today," Bradshaw reminded. "It's nothing personal, partner. It's just business."

Eddie made several mouth movements before he smiled in the same manner once again. "It's just business, _holmes_?" he echoed. "Well, _horale_ _vato_, in that case...I'll make it personal!"

Eddie's voice grew to a rasp, obviously fuming before he ran down the stage to Bradshaw's limo in full speed. Bradshaw locked all his doors, so he trash talked as Eddie fumbled with his car door handles. Then, Eddie jumped for the roof like he was built on springs. Bradshaw sunk down in fright as Eddie crawled to the sunroof, his legs sticking out from the outside. Then Eddie went back down on the floor with a little surprise on his hand.

It was Bradshaw's white cowboy hat. Eddie held it up as the audience cheered raucously. Bradshaw's hat-less head went back up the sunroof, his face scrunched up in a silent fury. To add insult to injury, Eddie went back the stage and wore Bradshaw's hat, the brim covering the half of his face.

"You have a big head, _esse_!" he quipped. "Oh! I know what we should do! How would you like to fill this up?"

Everyone cheered, going for Eddie's plan, but Bradshaw shook his head defiantly.

"That's a 3,000 dollar hat you're holding! You stop desecrating it right now!"

Eddie grabbed the brim of Bradshaw's hat, wiping it to his ass like he just did his business. "Huh? I don't know what you're talking about."

Laughs and jeers were all pointed to Bradshaw from the audience. Rey and I were both bending up double form too much laughing.

"Man, is Eddie really zonked out bad!" Rey got out.

"Damn! I forgot how funny he really is, until now," I managed to say.

Eddie was still frolicking around the stage with Bradshaw's hat, while Bradshaw only settled to glaring at him instead of leaving his stupid limo. Maybe he's scared of Eddie, or scared of being humiliated in his new image. Angle was nowhere in sight.

"C'mon people! What's it gonna be? Anyone got a Coke or..." Eddie asked the audience, wiping the edge of the hat to the nose this time. "Let's just get this thing over with!"

And with that Eddie jumped off the stage and went to the first line of students seated up front, holding the hat upside down. A girl started to pour water inside the brim, while a group of rowdy boys dumped popcorn and fries in. Bradshaw stared in horror.

"Don't do it, Eddie!" he yelled.

But Eddie showed no signs of listening. The brim of the hat was already to the half when Eddie came to our row.

"Would you mind helping me, _esse vatos_?" Eddie asked, pushing the hat towards us.

I peered at the brim of the hat. Beer, Coke, and water were all mixed up, the chips and the other junk food floated adding up to how disgusting it is. I shrugged, and then Rey and I both spat into the hat. A few minutes later, the junior and senior boys started doing the same thing. There was so much spit flying around, Eddie had to hold the hat at arm's length. I think I started a trend!

"Nice!" Eddie laughed, enjoying it. "Very attractive."

After all the work was done, Eddie ran up back again to the stage, Bradshaw's hat overflowing with his concoction. Eddie put the hat at the very center of the stage, and with a swift move, he jumped down on it, literally flattening it. Everyone laughed and laughed and laughed.

Bradshaw, on the other hand, watched everything that had happened with a deadly serious look on his face.

"You're gonna pay for this, Eddie. You're gonna pay." he said bluntly.

"Well why don't you come on up here right now and let me go kick your ass American style!" Eddie countered.

And with that, Bradshaw barked to his chauffeur to exit the limo, and I even saw some of the school's faculty and professors leaving the scene, shaking their heads from Eddie's misdemeanors.

"_Horale viva mi raza_!" Eddie declared.

Yup, that's our Eddie, alright. A guy like him was meant to humor everyone. You don't know how this guy used to live his life. Once drowned into the bowels of addiction, Eddie now found himself in a new addiction once again, wowing both SC and RRC into a new high known as Latino Heat.

The students were the only ones left in the auditorium now. Others already started to leave with smiles on their faces, knowing Eddie have made their day. Eddie made his way to our row, shaking his shoulders Latino-style, Rey slapping him on the back while I applauded him.

"You did great, _amigo_," Rey said when he stopped slapping Eddie. "Bradshaw deserved it."

"One thing though," I piped in. "Bradshaw may come crying to Vinnie Mac right this minute."

Eddie shrugged. "McMahon's a sheep. If I told him what really happened, he'll figure it was worth it."

"Man, you should have been here before!" Rey exclaimed. "Where have you been anyway?"

I blinked. I simply can't tell these guys about the Randy situation; Eddie and Rey are also my friends, and I've enough problems already. And as far as keeping secrets go...

"Walking," I lied, trying to change the subject. "So Eddie...are you ready to call this a night?"

Eddie looked surprised for a moment. And then, as quick as a cat, an evil gleam flashed across his dark eyes. He smirked knowingly.

"This? You _hombres_ have seen nothing yet."

(t.b.c)


	10. Spring Night Sanities and Insanities

**Wow! Thanks to those who reviewed!**

**JohnCenasgurl…where are you? **

**Jeff's favorite skittle…I made Chapter 9 and this chapter especially for you! Please read it soon! And thanks for reviewing Mr. Clay! Orton rox my sox!!!**

**Mitchy…ahem…never mind!**

**Icy Rabbit…more John/Torrie soon, and expect a rated R chapter soon! I'm already working on it!**

**Nisha…thanx for the nice opinions!**

**BeautifulMe89…I hope I got your name right! Thanx!**

**And…errm…does anyone around here know that JOHN CENA and RANDY ORTON are actually friends in real life? If anyone knows this it's fine by me, but to those who doesn't—you can tell me, it is pretty shocking. These two help each other on how to eat right and keep their bodies fit, and of course, WWE Superstars are often on the road, so alliances can be made! It is proven from Randy's interview that when he was asked who he wanted to be his tag-team partner, he would like John Cena to be one. On a certain SmackDown! mag, John was asked the same question, and he answered that he would like Randy to be his tag-team partner. Just imagine if that really happened! Talk about high stakes and ratings! I just wish McMahon would finally cave in for these guys to be together, because they are really good wrestlers, not to mention really HOT and they're the loves of my life…**

**Not that I'm bragging, but I have a picture of both of them together, and up 'til now I'm still scratching my head whenever I see the weirdness of what they are doing in there. **

**Ok…that was too much blabbering…I'm becoming sweaty again…**

**Here you go…Chapter 10!**

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

_**From the desk of Principal McMahon**_

_(Note to professors: Please read in homeroom.)_

_Good morning students!_

_To make-up for the last months of this outstanding school year, we will celebrate the annual joint event of Springville College and Red River College, **the Spring Night**. This will take place on Friday tonight from six o' clock in the evening to twelve o' clock midnight at the **Halsey Manor Lodge**. Program ceremonies will follow immediately after the Buffet Dinner at six. Students are asked to come on time so that they will be able to enjoy the night dining and dancing. As Hotel Policy, no shirts, no shoes, no service, so the students are asked to wear decent outfits fitted to the occasion._

_As agreed upon during the meeting of the Springville/Red River Student Council held last week, President Steve Austin decided that the Spring play of the RRC drama club **"Autumn of the 70's"** will be postponed at three o' clock in the afternoon on the same day so that students will be able to watch, and the actors and actresses of the play will have time to get ready and go with their dates. SC will also have their share of excitement, as the winner of the **Great American Award** will finally be announced around seven to eight in the evening, organized by Kurt Angle, the new General Manager of the SC Eagles. Again, for the good people not knowing, the nominees are **Booker Huffman**, **Paul Wight**, **Charlie Haas**, **John Cena**, and **John Bradshaw Layfield**. Polls are still open until lunchtime so the students are still allowed to vote, and the final canvassing will take place at dismissal. Every vote counts, so make the right choice._

_Though I will not be around to party along due to personal matters, I wish to everyone to all have a good time. Any roughhousing detected from the students will be suspended right on the spot._

_Enjoy yourselves and have a happy evening._

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

After two grueling weeks of waiting, the time has finally come.

Yup, this was it. We all heard Mr. McMahon's announcement. Everyone was already excited, talking about what they'll wear or who'll they take. The Spring Night was the last school happening this year; soon it'll be summer and fun in the sun.

Yet there was still one issue that our school won't forget, when Eddie Guerrero pulled one of his spontaneous pranks, stealing Bradshaw's hat and completely desecrating it, causing the humiliation the idiot wouldn't possibly take.

But I know Eddie. He has something better up his sleeve; the way he said we haven't seen anything yet.

After that, Bradshaw made himself an utterably horrible bratinella** (A/N: Bratinella is a made-up word here, meaning spoiled little girls!)**, considering Eddie's actions are like of felony, describing the whole thing as if Eddie did robbery and homicide in a local bank instead of trying to look into the real thing. Because of that, everyone despised Bradshaw now, forgetting the Texan that they once loved, and there's not one person in the whole student body of SC who wouldn't throw "the finger" in the direction where his back was turned.

Eddie couldn't be any happier.

Back to reality. This was it, the joint and final annual party of SC and RRC, the Spring Night. I was lingering around the entrance of the Halsey Manor Lodge, adjusting my orange STRAWBERRY jersey shirt with a few buttons undone to reveal three-fourth's of my bare chest and yanked my chains back and forth. Rey was already inside, acquainted with Matthew Hyson, a draftee from RRC** (errm…this is Spike Dudley's real name!)**, while Eddie picked up Vicky from the RRC auditorium. Rey and I both came to watch the play, and it was really great. When it was finished, Eddie urged us to go ahead of the hotel first, since the both of us don't have dates anyways.

You heard it right. I-DON'T-HAVE-A-DATE.

Rey actually preferred to go alone, but it was my decision not to ask anyone out. And despite Randy's little theories, I don't think anyone would notice if I took some random girl with me. Parties like these can't count as a male bonding experience.

I checked my watch. A quarter to eight. In contrary to the announcement Vinnie Mac made earlier, the awarding ceremony didn't even start yet. I was arriving a little late, but that was all part of my strategy. By now thing would be in full gear, couples would be switching around to dance along with friends, and everyone would be a lot less likely to notice I was arriving stag. I heard loud rock music form the inside and students singing along with the lyrics. Yet I had my thoughts on that nice, little trophy, the Great American Award. Who will win?

I peeked at my watch when a black limousine suddenly pulled over from the hotel entryway. I leaned against a nearby wall when the chauffeur came out and pulled the car door open. Four men hopped out.

I raised my eyebrows. It was Evolution, all in their fancy suits. When they walked to the doors, their steps suddenly halted when they saw me.

"Nice suits, hookers." I greeted them with a fake smile.

Hunter snorted and continued to walk as if I wasn't there. Batista settled for a death glare, while Flair made a little twirl in front of me, parading his suit and followed the other two. I curled my lip in disdain.

"Ahem."

I turned around, seeing Randy Orton clear his throat repeatedly, as if daring me to notice him. He was wearing a leather jacket over his plain black button-down elbow-sleeved Ralph Lauren shirt, Levis jeans, and shiny black shoes. Looking at him right now, he truly is a vision to the ladies. I made a sexy whistle as I did him a slow once-over.

"Hey Randy," I said, slapping him on the back. "You're lookin' fine tonight."

"Hi John." Randy regarded me smoothly. "You're not half bad yourself."

I peered at his wrist. "Is that a Rolex on your hand?"

Randy played with his wrist, shaking it around my face. "Duh. What can a guy want more?"

I looked back at the entrance. "You, uh…your friends are having a period or something?"

Randy looked back at the entrance too, then he just shook his head. "Just ignore them. You wanna come with me inside?"

I smirked. "Nah. You go ahead. You have dates waiting for you, and I don't want them thinking that we're speaking fag."

"Damn right." Randy said, matching me smirk by smirk. "I'll see you later."

Randy finally went inside, and after few several minutes, I pushed the heavy door open and walked to the lobbies until I finally reached the ballroom.

White bulbs dripped like icing from every eave, column, and window ledge, giving the log façade of the big hotel a festive appearance. Crystal chandeliers hung low from the ceiling, their glittering reflection bouncing off darkened windows. I could just discern the lanterned edge of a long outdoor deck, and the silhouettes of a few couples taking advantage of the moonlit view. Around the perimeter of the large room was a host of round, white-draped tables with star shaped balloon centerpieces. Few chairs were occupied, but the coats and purses draped over them made it clear how many had been reserved.

_Whoa. _I breathed. The schools have selected a great place for this party.

On the stage, RRC's rock band Fozzy continued to blear out high notes of guitars, basses, and drums. Junior Chris Jericho, linebacker of the RRC Lions, was on vocals, jumping with the mic with his punk attitude, causing the dancing audience going bonkers in all their gothic glory.

"_Don't you wish you were me!" _Jericho sang out.

I walked around, bopping my head along with the music, looking for a chair in that crowded room. Everyone was having fun, despite the fact that RRC and SC were in one roof. I saw some students actually making friends from the other school. Rivalries actually didn't matter; it only happens during game night. I was about to get an empty chair when someone tapped me from behind.

"Excuse me, would you like to buy a ticket?" a girl's voice asked me.

I turned around and my eyes widened. It was Torrie Wilson, wearing a strappy pink sundress. Her eyes widened, obviously surprised herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know it was you."

"My fault," I replied, checking her out. "Errrm, what ticket?"

Torrie looked down from the small scraps of paper in her hand then back up at me again. "Extra ballots for the Great American Award. I'm helping the Student Council to sell them so you guys can get extra points."

"What are the results as of lately?" I asked her coolly, trying to control myself. Talking to Torrie in her flashy outfits was starting to take a toll on me.

"You won't believe it, but you're on the lead," Torrie told me, smiling. "You sold out so fast; Huffman's trailing behind you along with that jerk Bradshaw."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Can I buy one?"

Torrie looked confused. "What? You're going to win anyway."

I nodded. "I know that. I ought to give the other nominees some slack and vote for them so they wouldn't get their feelings hurt."

Torrie shoved me playfully. "God! You're so bad!"

I laughed. "Bad boy for life, honey. Just being helpful."

"Okay then," Torrie said, relenting. "Who would you like?"

I thought for a moment. "Give me one for my good friend Charlie Haas."

Torrie took a small scrap and gave it to me. I handed her a dollar. "Keep the change." I told her.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Then, Torrie leaned on me as if spilling a major secret. "Speaking of Charlie, could you do me a favor?"

"I guess. Sure."

"You remember my friend Jackie right? She has this, uh…huge crush on Charlie and couldn't even talk to him. So, can you give Charles a little push?"

I only smiled. "I'm a thug, not a matchmaker."

"I know you're going to say that," Torrie guessed. "Just look at Charlie from the punch bowl and Jackie from that table. You'll see what I mean."

My eyes were strained to the punch bowl. Charlie kept looking to the table where Jackie sits, while Jackie sat in her chair, looking cute in her light blue dress, but she seemed somewhat uncomfortable. Wanting-to-talk-to-Charlie kind of uncomfortable. Obviously the two of them wanted to talk to each other. I guess Torrie was right.

"Gee…that was weird." I said, looking at both of them back and forth

"So what do you say?" Torrie asked. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Help," I decided. "That's what Charles needs."

"Okay, I'll talk to Jackie, and you talk to Charlie."

"Good."

Though it seems kind of foolish, I made my move, but take note: I'm just helping out a friend. I approached Charlie, a punch cup in one hand while staring out in space.

"Enjoying your punch?" I said behind him.

Charlie jumped, and then turned around, startled. "Cena! You scared me!"

"That's what I love to do. Listen. See that blonde over there in that table? I think she's hot." I pointed to Jackie, going through my prepared speech.

"Jackie Gayda…" Charlie said, his eyes going misty. "Yeah. She truly is a sight."

"Definitely. You know what? I asked her to dance with me, but she refused. She actually said you were the one she wants. So I just left. Why don't you give her a try?"

"I don't know, John. I'll end up looking like a fool."

Shit, this isn't working. I saw Torrie talking to Jackie on the other table, and Jackie seems to fall into her trap. I saw them both stand up, approaching the punch table, and I knew I have to say something, right now.

Then I had an idea.

"You want to end up looking more like a fool when I tell everyone out here that Rico's ogling on you?" I got out, naming the gay draftee from the RRC.

Charlie gasped. "No! You wouldn't!"

"Damn sure I will."

Charlie gulped, and took a deep breath.

"Come on, Charlie," I said impatiently. "What have you got to lose?"

"My self-respect," Charlie countered. "But I'll give it a try. I won't die anyway."

I smirked. "That's the spirit. Now go to her, lover boy!"

Charlie approached Jackie as Torrie went to my side. I saw Charlie talk a little, and then gave Jackie a hand. Jackie smiled shyly and nodded, holding hands to the dance floor.

"That's so sweet!" Torrie squealed.

"They're not a bad item, I should say so myself." I gloated.

Torrie grinned. "Thanks for the help."

I looked at her. She smiled—that dazzling cheerleader smile of hers—and the low lights sparkled the diamonds in her ears, and I knew half the guys in the room were probably watching us at that moment. Our faces were so close, almost several inches away. God, she looks so beautiful…

"I…I'm just glad to help the guy out," I said awkwardly.

Torrie didn't say more, as she tiptoed from her heels and gave me a long, sweet peck on the cheek.

My jaw dropped. Did Torrie just kiss me?

She shyly drew back, a blush tainted on her cheeks. "Sorry. Got caught up in a moment, I guess."

I bent my sunvisor down, reddening myself. "That's okay. I kind of enjoyed it."

"Good. So I'll see you around?"

"I'm happy to be around."

Torrie smiled at me one last time, and then ran off to join her friends. I took several deep breaths. This is gonna be one hell of a night.

"Hey tiger," Randy suddenly said behind me.

I shook my head, then faced him. He was smirking, almost in a challenging manner. He also had a cup of punch in one hand, meaning that he has been here a long time.

"You saw the whole thing, didn't you?" I queried.

Randy shrugged, trying to look innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar. I could see that you're having fun, you sadistic son of a bitch."

Randy's grin was so wide was almost to his ears. "I'm just happy for you, pal. She finally got a taste of you."

I crossed my arms and watched the people dance along to a new song. "Not really. Not _totally_, actually."

"You're not satisfied with only a peck?" Randy said incredulously. Then he grinned. "Oh, I get it. You totally want to stick it down her throat, don't you?"

"Stop it, Randy," I said blandly. "I'm not like you."

Randy slapped my shoulder in a way to make me feel better. "You can criticize me any way you want, but that's okay. I've been through this kind of drama—this kind of things just takes time."

"You mean to say you've been into this drama you're whole life?" I said, trying to humor him.

Randy smirked in his non-transparent manner. "My mistake."

What the hell did that mean? Randy looked on to the silhouettes of dancing people, but I don't know what he was thinking. His eyes were so hard to read.

I saw Fozzy ended their song, bowing to the audience. Students applauded, then started to cheer when the SC/RRC Student Council President Steve Austin took the mic. Austin has a cool rep in both schools—he's a very popular senior on RRC, solving any uprising taking place with only a snap of his hand. He also used to be the Lions' football team captain, so I bet you this guy is really large. He didn't play anymore, so he decided to run for Council President of the SC/RRC Student Council. He won, and of course I voted for him—this guy was one of my idols.

"Nominees of the Great American Award please get ready," Austin announced. Geeks carried the award on a small card table covered in a black cloth. Austin gave the mic to Kurt Angle.

"You'd better get ready, man." Randy nudged me.

"I will."

"Good luck on that award thing—you got my vote." Randy called out before disappearing to the crowd.

I yanked my chains nervously, and then I took off my hat and raked my hair. I fished out a mint-flavored Kissy Fresh from my throwbacks pocket and sprayed it inside my mouth. I got my hat back on again. Got to make a good impression!

Kurt Angle took the mic. "First of all, I would like to thank everyone for supporting this project. Over a thousand votes were made, and it never would've happened without the cooperation of the SC and RRC student body. The polls have finally been finalized, and I would like to say that the results have been like a shockwave to the canvassers."

Everyone applauded.

"Now I would like to call all the nominees," Angle continued. "John Cena!"

All the students cheered—and I meant all of them cheered, including the students from Red River as I went up the stage. Angle held out a hand for me to shake, but I only gave him my patented "nuts" and put it in his front suit pocket.

He scowled. "Next nominee, Charlie Haas!"

Charlie went up the stage, his applause a little less thunderous than mine. He stood beside me.

"Good luck, Cena," he told me.

"You too." I whispered back.

"Thanks for the Jackie thing too. I couldn't have done it without you."

"No problem."

Angle spoke up from the mic again. "Paul Wight!"

Big Show went up the stage. He was the biggest guy in SC/RRC history, over seven feet tall and weighing at least 470 pounds. I mean, I'm only measured to his arm pits, dammit! He stood next to Charlie, who shuddered.

"Next nominee, Booker Huffman!" Angle called out.

The students of RRC cheered to their former football player from their team, I've never really seen the guy before, but I'm seeing him now. He was tall, and dark, bearing the African-American features, and just like Rey said, he had dreadlocks almost to his shoulders. His face was blank, unperturbed, as he stood next to Big Show.

I heard once that guys like these, you know people having dreadlocks; they don't take a bath to keep their hairstyle intact. My sense of smell was really strong, and by far I haven't smelled anything that stinks. I actually don't want to tell it to this guy's face first though; it would ruin our relationship in the near future.

"And last but not least, my personal favorite," Angle said cattily. "John Bradshaw Layfield!"

Boos were heard again from everyone. Bradshaw came out and went up the stage, wearing one of his usual suits, his black cowboy boots, and a brand new cowboy hat. He just looks more stupid than usual.

"Now that were done mentioning the nominees, let's look at the Titan tron for the results," Angle said.

A huge screen, or Titan tron, was built up the ceiling of the Halsey Manor Lodge. Results were shown, and the nominees' names were listed, with the number of votes on the side. My name was on top, high above everyone else.

John Cena: 200,000 plus tops. I nodded, trying not to look surprised at all. Everyone in the room started talking excitedly.

"Now, the results have been tabulated, and we obviously have ourselves a winner here," Angle said good-humoredly, looking right at me.

Wow. Lumpy's in a good mood today.

Angle spoke up again. "And so, the winner of the Great American Award is—''

"WAIT!" Bradshaw suddenly yelled. "I would like to say a few words here."

I yanked Bradshaw's arm down. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?!"

Angle set the microphone down and turned to both of us. "Men, stop this for a while! We're in front of the entire student body here!" he hissed. Then he turned to Bradshaw. "Bradshaw! What the hell do you think you're going at?"

"Is there a problem here?" Austin demanded.

"I can handle it, Steve." Angle told Austin icily.

"Just give me the microphone, Mr. Angle," Bradshaw said. "I'll take it from here."

Angle frowned, giving Bradshaw the mic. "Be my guest, I'll just stand here!"

Bradshaw took the mic, and then turned to the audience. Everyone booed him, louder then before, but he just ignored them. "Now, you people may think that I'm disappointed that I didn't get the most votes, but I'm not. That's why I prepared a little something-something for you all to watch, and it might just change your minds. Now if everyone would just turn their attention to the Titan tron…"

The lights went out, and then everyone looked at the Titan tron. Bradshaw happened to have prepared a home-movie, and it showed him standing alone in a dark unnamed territory around Texas. He blabbed and blabbed in the video, and after a few minutes of understanding, I deduced he was in a border line where Texas meets Mexico. He explained that Mexicans don't have the right to live in America because they take advantage of our health insurances and our economy, meaning that they take home American dollars and exchange it into their currency. As the video wore on, I saw Bradshaw stealthily move on the grass and scared the living hell out of a few Mexican teenagers trying to cross the border. Bradshaw yelled a few curses out of them, even giving a kick to one of the kids that sent them scurrying off. Bradshaw laughed like a hag, the hag from the Hansel and Gretel story, the one who tried to push little Hansel into a hot, steaming oven. I suddenly imagined that Eddie was the one being shoved into the oven.

I gulped. Eddie was still nowhere to be seen.

The video finally came to a halt as the lights went back on, and some of the students who happened to be from the South of the Border were clearly offended, yelling you-know-what's to Bradshaw. Angle, on the other hand, was clearly impressed, smiling and nodding along with Bradshaw.

"That was really impressive," Angle said. "Very wonderful. Truly a work of an all-American."

Bradshaw smiled proudly, but I was dying from the inside out. I looked both at Angle and Bradshaw. These two must be joined at the hip immediately. They're starting to look alike. I glared at Bradshaw as he went beside me.

But then the whole thing filled me with doubt. The decision was going to be Angle's, after all. Bradshaw may win, but the video he just showed was practically an ultimate display of rudeness to the Spanish community. I wonder how Eddie and Rey were reacting to this.

I looked around the audience. Where the hell was Eddie anyway?

"And now I know that I have made a right choice," Angle stated. "And so, the winner of the Great American Award is…John—''

I held my hand up gangster style.

"Bradshaw Layfield!" Angle finished.

The crowd went berserk. Bradshaw jumped for joy, not knowing he completely squashed me. The other nominees started to go down the stage steps, looking pissed. I was about to make a go on Bradshaw until I saw Rey calling me from down below.

"J! Get down there right now!" Rey told me.

I went down the stage steps and approached Rey, giving him a confused look. "What? What is it?"

"I'm here to save your ass!" he said.

I frowned. "What the hell are you talking about? I just lost the Great American Award! And what do you mean by saving my ass?"

"I'm saving your ass from getting humiliated!"

"_What_?!"

Rey smirked and pointed to the still-covered trophy. "Just watch."

As my eyes went back up the stage, I saw Angle congratulate Bradshaw for the award. They both shook each other's hand, smiling like perverts.

"Congratulations, Bradshaw!" Angle said joyfully. "Presenting the winner of the Great American Award!"

Bradshaw grinned toothily to the audience who booed him even more so in return. But he didn't mind—he was the winner anyway. I felt robbed.

"Okay partner," Angle told him, pointing to the covered trophy. "The award's all yours."

Bradshaw looked excited, as he grasped the black cloth that covered the trophy firmly. Then he jerked the cloth down, excited to see what's in store for him.

But what was now standing on the card table was a radioactive pile of seething resentment.

The vision of the gold-colored, red, white, and blue colored trophy was nowhere in sight. Instead, a bunch of straws and sticks were glued together with Scotch tape and bubble gum, resembling an improvised trophy. There was a Chicken Run action figure on top with small dice cuffs around it, and everything was a disarray of red, white, and blue rubber bands.

And to add insult to injury, below the "trophy" was a framed picture of Latino Heat— Eddie Guerrero himself, in his signature smirk, and like I said, that smirk was always, _always_ up to no good.

It was official. Eddie stole the Great American Award. And at times like these, I'm glad that McMahon wasn't around to witness all of this.

After it registered to everyone's heads, a fresh wave of laughter swept the entire ballroom. Angle and Bradshaw were both fuming. Bradshaw took the mic.

"Eddie Guerrero! You damn Latino thief!" Bradshaw yelled, taking off his hat and coat in anger. "Give me my award right now!"

Angle took the mic away from Bradshaw's hands. "Eddie Guerrero, come on out here right now! Get your ass over here with my trophy right this minute!"

As if hearing his presence called, the giant fire exit doors of the hotel opened. People cheered when they saw Eddie on a low-rider, trying to drive its way inside. Then, he stood up from the passenger seat and shook his shoulders.

And what do you know? The Great American Award was right on top of the radiator. Luckily, Eddie had a mic of his own.

"Hey _holmes_!" Eddie greeted them. "Congratulations Bradshaw! You have certainly proven to everyone that you are the Great American Asshole!"

The students in the ballroom howled with spontaneous, raucous laughter, me and Rey joining in. He still might not be over that clothesline Bradshaw gave to him, but Eddie was born with hilarity—a person could get easily used to him. Bradshaw took the mic again.

"You sneaky son of a bitch, Guerrero!" Bradshaw dictated. "You give back my award right now!"

Eddie shrugged as if not registering what Bradshaw was saying. "You want your award, _esse_?" he asked. "Well, you just stay there and I'll get it back to you!"

Eddie jumped off from his car, grabbed the trophy from his radiator, and then ran to the stage, putting down the award on the card table. Bradshaw and Angle immediately fled from the stage when they saw Eddie taking a steel chair then threatened to whack them with it.

Suddenly, Eddie's eyes widened, as if an idea just went right to his head. Still holding the steel chair, he set the Great American Award right on the stage floor with his free hand. The audience was confused, not knowing what Eddie really was doing.

After a few seconds, I was the one who got it. And Angle seemed to have gotten it as well.

"Don't do it, Eddie," Angle warned him. "Don't do it or you'll pay!"

Eddie didn't listen. Holding the steel chair high, he whacked the trophy, slapping it so many times with the steel chair that it was all left to crumble to pieces. Angle was on the verge of crying, while Bradshaw's horrified expression was frozen on his face. The audiences' voices joined together in lackluster laughs, jeers, and applauses. Fed up, they both fled the scene.

"That was really great!" Rey exclaimed. "Latino Heat strikes back!"

"I owe him big time," I said giddily. "But how does he know that Bradshaw was going to win?"

"He knows that Angle wouldn't let you get that trophy," Rey stated. "This idea was on-the-spot, in fact. He just thought of this a while ago."

"Really? Wow. I can't do that. Eddie isn't human at all!" I said, impressed.

Our eyes went back up the stage. Eddie was now kicking off the shards of the trophy with his feet until Steve Austin approached him, two cans of beers in both hands.

"And that was, I think, the _final_ awarding ceremony of the Great American Award," Austin told the audience in the ballroom. "Let's hear it for Eddie Guerrero!"

There was some more applause, then the chant started from the back: _"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!" _Austin gave Eddie his own beer can, both laughing as they opened it. They both held it up when Austin spoke up again.

"To us!" Austin said, holding his beer can aloft. "To Springville and to Red River, and the end of a fantastic year together, and the start of a fantastic year ahead. And that's the bottom line; 'coz Stone Cold said so!"

Everyone raised their glasses. Austin and Eddie's beers sloshed on the stage as they drank it together and everyone's glasses clinked all around the ballroom.

Eddie, once again, saved us all.

"Hey Jericho!" Austin called out from the audience. "Get your ass up in here and get Fozzy started up again!"

Instruments were boarded up again on the stage. Once everything was ready, a high string bass note was made, then Chris Jericho took the vocals again.

"Are ya' ready to rock on once again, boys and girls?!" Jericho asked the audience.

"HELL YEAH!" the audience answered in unison.

"Well, let's get this party started once again, baby!" Jericho exclaimed. Another new song was playing, with louder guitars and drums involved. I joined in with the cheering audience.

Spring Night was an official success.

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(12:00 midnight)

The last song came to an end. "Good night Springville and Red River!" Jericho cried, waving from the stage.

The lights came up to sighs of disappointment, but it didn't take long for people to start clearing out, practically stampeding to the parking lot in their hurry to beat the crowd. Girls grabbed the star-shaped balloons as they went, while the guys were talking and laughing, complaining on how full they were from the delicious food and what a blast they had had.

I drank the last of my punch cup, crumpled it, then threw it down the floor, still sober and awake. Eddie and Rey were lying asleep on the table, both tired and drunk. They've been drinking all night and dancing with the wrong people, talking to their football teammates in over animated voices. Sighing, I shook both their shoulders to wake them up.

"Come on guys," I repeatedly said, both shaking them continuously. "The party's over."

Rey sat up, then staggered on the floor, almost tripping on his sneakers. Eddie looked the worst of all—his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were barely open.

I helped both of them up, putting both their arms around my shoulders as we all walked slowly to the exit.

"Mornin' already?" Rey asked, his loud disappointed voice carrying over the silence of the room.

"Almost," I answered.

"I want my mommy, _esse_," Eddie slurred. "Is there any more punch? Issa house specialty!"

"No, Eddie. We're going home and I'm takin' care of both of you." I said calmly. "Now come on. We're almost to the parking lot."

Then I noticed something. I left my chains on the same table inside. I wanted to make a dash back again, but I couldn't leave Eddie and Rey here.

After I put them in the car, I decided. I continued to help them walk.

The three of us were almost the last persons in the parking lot now, but I noticed other students were still lingering around or making out on outside benches. We're almost three feet from Eddie's car, until I heard Eddie made some gurgling noises, covering his mouth with his hands.

"Eddie! Not here!" I exclaimed. "Hold it in until we reach the bushes!"

"Need help?" a voice said beside me. I thought it was Rey, but when I looked up, it was Randy, an amused look etching his face.

"Good! You're here!" I said, relieved. "Hold Rey and make a go in the bushes!"

Randy grabbed Rey, his tattooed arm going around the little guy's shoulder. "On it."

We both ran to the bushes. Eddie's head was already bending over. Jumping back just in time to avoid my Reeboks messed up, Eddie threw up right on the bushes, and a few minutes later, Rey joined in with him, both puking out steaming, toxic-looking mixture of punch, beer and half-chewed Chee-tos. I rubbed both their backs while Randy stifled his laughter within him.

"Come on, just let it all out guys," I murmured, tapping their backs gently. More puke went out. At that moment, I felt like throwing up myself.

"Shit…I'm glad I didn't went overboard." I said to Randy. "This is so embarrassing."

Randy held up a hand. "I hang out with three guys who drink all the time. Believe me, seeing the three of them throw up is a hundred times worse than this."

I went green. "Gee, I'm glad you reminded me."

Randy chuckled, then went suddenly serious. "I'm sorry about the award thing. Bradshaw's a real asshole."

I was startled, still rubbing Eddie and Rey's backs, then flashed him a sympathetic smile. "It's fine with me. I'm good. I'm actually glad I didn't win. It's better than being pranked by Eddie."

Randy nodded. "Your boy Guerrero was hilarious. The four of us were actually laughing our asses out."

I shrugged. "That's our Eddie."

Randy smiled, rubbing his palms together. "Anything more that I can do?"

"Aren't you going home yet?"

Randy shook his head. "Hunter, Ric, and Dave are still inside on the phone, making a reservation at the Danger Zone, hooked up for another party. I'm just waiting for them out here, but I'm getting bored. Everyone awake is still going."

By now the two Latino fools have finished throwing up, but still pretty much intoxicated and now ready to fall asleep. I fished out the car keys from Eddie's jeans and handed it to Randy.

"Take them to that low-rider down there. I'll drive them home." I told him.

Randy hesitated, stepping backward. "I don't think so. Both our football teams are rivals, and they know what position I am in, so…"

I got his point easily, but this is no time to act like a prima donna. "I forgot my chains inside so I have to go back. And don't worry—by the state that they're in, they won't be able to recognize you. Got that, Randall?"

Randy narrowed his blue eyes. "Don't call me Randall."

"Look, _Randall_ Keith Orton, just do me a favor and put them in the damn car." I retorted. "It's not that hard to do."

I stared at him down before he finally shrugged and relented. He held up his arms.

"Alright, Mr. John Felix Anthony Cena. Hand those children over to me while I play the baby-sitter." Randy muttered.

I smiled as I handed Eddie and Rey over to him. "Okay then. I'll pay you a hundred bucks for doing a good job."

Randy laughed when he put Eddie and Rey's arms around his shoulders. "Now go back and get your chains before these babies puke on my Ralph Lauren's."

With a quick turn, Randy pulled both Eddie and Rey to the low-rider in a matter of seconds. He was taller and he has stronger arms so it was easier for him. He opened the car with the keys; pushed Eddie and Rey in the back seat to sleep, and closed it. He pumped his fist, triumphant.

"Thank you!" I called out.

Randy smiled, giving me a dismissive wave, then disappeared as he went inside the Evolution limousine. Then, I sprinted back inside the hotel and made a turn into the ballroom.

The ballroom was now dark, almost scary, but I saw few maintenance crews cleaning up messes from the floor. I approached the nearest table cleaner.

"You seen a padlock with chains on it?" I asked her.

The woman was startled, then she pulled out something big and heavy from her pocket. It was my chains.

"This little thing?" the woman said incredulously. "You actually carry this around?"

"I wear it, ma'am. Thanks."

The woman snorted, continuing to clean tables. "Have a good night, kid."

Walking out from the ballroom, I wore my chains, swearing that I'll never take it off on public places ever again. As I was about to reach Eddie's car, someone was yelling.

It was a girl's voice, crying for help.

My steps made a complete stop. That was Torrie's voice!

I ran to the opposite direction in total panic. Torrie was in trouble, and I don't even know where she was!

"Somebody please help me!" she cried out.

"You shut up, little girl! No one will hear you!" another voice yelled out. It belonged to Big Show's.

Calming down, I gradually found out where the voices came from. It came from the outdoor deck of the hotel, one storey high from the ground. I hid from the trees, but I made out two figures; Big Show crushing Torrie's shoulder while she just yelped out in pain, Big Show threatening to throw Torrie off the ledge.

"Please Show, I'm begging you…" Torrie pleaded, starting to cry.

"Shut up!" Big Show barked at her. "I already lost that award, and then you laugh at me? How cruel can you be?!"

Torrie? Laughing at Big Show for losing? Torrie never made fun of anyone. But is it possible? More to the point, what was wrong with Big Show? My head was spinning.

"Show! Put Torrie down right now!" a deeper voice boomed out.

Cripes! It was Kurt Angle, coming out from the trees. Shaking my head, I quickly ran up to him before he did anything.

"Hey Lumpy!" I called.

Angle turned around, obviously confused when he saw me. "Cena?! What are you still doing here?!"

"You shouldn't go up there, Kurt," I said breathlessly. "I have an idea. We should—''

"I have no time for this, Cena! I've got to go up there! Now go inside and call the police. I'll take care of this."

"But Kurt—''

Too late. Angle already ran up the stairs to the outdoor deck, leaving me in a state of confusion. I wanted to get up there and save Torrie myself, but I don't want to end up falling from that ledge. But what will I do?!

"Please help me!" Torrie cried out again.

"Don't worry, Torrie. I'm here." Angle said. He was now up the deck.

"No, Kurt! Get back here!" I yelled, looking up from the deck.

I saw Big Show smirk from high up, not really noticing me. He was eyeing Angle with a sadistic smile. "You wanted to get killed too, bulbhead?"

I gasped. This was getting serious. Angle and Big Show were now yelling curses at each other, and who knows what might happen next. Should I run inside and call the cops, or stay here, or go up the deck? What?

Suddenly, Big Show pushed Torrie away. I was shocked; turning pale as Big Show held Angle by the neck, and that was the part that I realized that the way Big Show carried Angle was not in a normal way an ordinary human carried another. Angle was now punching Big Show's chunky arm, turning purple.

"Let go of me, you big jerk!" Angle ordered him.

And with a swift move, he held the Eagles' General Manager high up…and choke slammed him twenty five feet in the air to the ground.

_Thud._ Then silence.

Seconds passed. Minutes.

I slowly opened my eyes, trying to tell myself this is only a dream.

But it wasn't. Kurt Angle lay motionless on the ground, his left leg twisted beneath him, blood coming out from behind his head.

"Kurt?" I blurted out, approaching the prostate body lying on the ground.

No answer. Kurt was as white as a ghost. I bent down and touched his hand.

Cold. As if he was dead.

_He's dead._

My breathing went sallow. The world was spinning, round and round. I tried to move my hands, trying to look for something to lean on, but my whole body went numb. I felt like I lost control of my brain as the world continued to spin faster.

The last thing I saw was Big Show bearing down from the ledge, looking down on Kurt, and the last thing I heard was Torrie's scream piercing out into the dark, silent night.

The world continued to spin, the fastest than it ever was before. I was desperate to stand up, but my legs gave out, feeling dizzy. I suddenly felt hot, the surroundings swimming out of focus. I saw Big Show's face dissolve the last of all, melting into a warm, brown blur. I felt my body go limp.

Then the world went black.

(t.b.c.)

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

**Really guys. I want y'all to be honest.**

**Is John Cena here more OOC than you expected?**

**What do you think of him and Torrie as a pair?**

**Was Randy's role here good enough as a friend of Cena's?**

**Should I include Carlito in the future?**

**Am I lacking my abilities on typing descriptions?**

**Does my English suck at all? (BLEH!)**

**(starts to cry) WAAAAAHHHH!!!**


	11. Confrontations

**So many reviews…Couldn't stand it! :D :D :D**

**To the others I reviewed, thanks for the nice opinions. And for Skittle, I hope you've seen more of Randy in Chapter 10…but right now I'll give more attention to the John/Torrie romance in the next chapters. And hey,I knowyou hate thegirl, andnow thatI think about, maybeI will pair Dawn Marie with someone. If you would like it to be Eddie...well...just read this chappie and you'll see whatI mean.Hope you won't hate me…(Bradshaw is boring!)**

**REMINDER: I didn't make the rap on Chapter 9. John Cena rapped it himself when Dupree won his first match on a new-improved SmackDown episode. Check out all of his raps in his official web, john-cenadotcom. It's a really great site!**

**Errmm…can you guys check out my other fic OUTSIDE THE ROPES? It's not a John Cena fic, experimenting has been going on in my head for the last month now and I would like to focus on RAW this time like in MISANTHROPE focusing mostly on SmackDown. Strange pairing may I add, but its good enough for me!**

**I'll be in hiatus for a while, finals are coming and I've barely studied….can't bare to get out of the Top 10! Here's Chapter 11!**

I sat in a bench outside the principal's office, feeling conspicuous and out of place. It was Thursday afternoon and I just got out of class, preparing to make a dash in my dorm room until a senior approached me and said Mr. McMahon would like to have a word with me. I haven't done anything stupid lately, and I'm used to going to the principal's office from the start of the year.

But in some sick way, I suddenly felt uncomfortable, with Vinnie Mac calling me out right now. And I exactly knew the reason why.

A week had passed since that horrible accident after Spring Night at the Halsey Manor Lodge. Big Show tried to throw Torrie Wilson off the 25-ft. ledge, upset from his loss in the Great American Award. Kurt Angle went up to save her but he ended up being thrown off for all his trouble.

The image kept playing in my head as if it was a CD stuck in a recorder. Images of Kurt Angle falling off that ledge, cracking his head open and his head tilted in a weird angle. And whenever I remember it, it felt like the whole thing happened just yesterday, and sure as hell I want to forget all about it, but I can't.

When the whole school found out, the once lively students had barely shown signs of life the past few days. They were afraid, angry, confused or sad. And who could blame them? Roaming around the school with the perpetrator still on the loose was everything but a flea bite compared to the rest of it.

I tried to remember that night again. When I eventually woke up from my faint the night before, I was in the local hospital. Nurses told me that both Torrie and I were unconscious when the paramedics came to the hotel. I wanted to talk to Torrie, but the nurses didn't let me, saying she was in a shock, too scared and shaken up to speak. The best doctors in the state had been in the operating room for several hours now, fighting hard to keep Kurt alive. But the worst part was Big Show was missing from the scene.

I sunk down from the bench even lower. My headache over the days wore even more so, slicing through my skin like a sharp razor blade upon hearing any kind of sound. I buried my face in my hands. This trauma was getting the better out of me.

Suddenly, the office door flew open, a 20-something office clerk walking in front of me. I looked up.

"John Cena, Mr. McMahon would like to see you right now." the clerk told me.

I nodded mutely and followed her inside the room. Sounds of ringing telephones and the beeping fax machines were the only noises, giving the office room a busy interior. Finally we stopped in front of a door that read: _Vincent Kennedy McMahon Jr., School Principal._

"He's just waiting for you right now," the clerk said quietly. "Don't forget to close the door behind you."

Then the clerk left me alone. I knocked on the door loudly.

"Come in," came the reply.

I took a deep breath, closing my hand around the door knob, pushing it open, revealing the luxurious interior of the principal's office.

There were bookcases on the sides lined up with history books, encyclopedias, school yearbooks and photo albums. Trophies and medals were sealed in glass cases, while certain paintings decorated the painted deep blue walls, the dark blue carpeted floor under my shoes freshly vacuumed. Standing lampshades, potted rubber trees and ferns took up the space at the corners. A dark mahogany table was on the center with a bunch of papers, pens, and picture frames strewn on the top. Behind the table was a huge, black desk chair facing the window, the only open space that gave the room sunlight.

And when the desk chair swiveled around, the one who sat on it was the Big Boss himself, Principal Vince McMahon. He eyed me now, his orbs in his usual habituated superiority.

"John Cena," McMahon queried. "We meet again."

I shrugged. Didn't feel like talking.

"Why are you still standing there?" he boomed out. "Sit down, boy! We have important matters to discuss."

I begrudgingly sat down to one of the two leather chairs facing him. Any day for me would be good enough to talk with this old coot; but not today when you are still trying to get over the fact that you have seen your General Manager fall off a ledge with a 50:50 chance of him living. Meanwhile, the Big Boss still eyed me warily, as if looking at me would pry anything out of my head.

"I'm here now, Boss," I said, breaking the silence. "What do you want?"

"About the Spring Night incident." McMahon answered immediately.

I winced inwardly. I know this would happen.

McMahon drew back, leaning to his chair. "Police has been telling me that you've been avoiding them and not taking their calls this past week. Are you running away from something, Cena? Something that you've been hiding?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not running. And I'm not hiding."

"Then why don't you want to talk to them? You'll just have to answer their questions." he suggested.

"Maybe because I don't want to talk about it," I said sarcastically.

"You should. You are a witness."

I frowned. "Well…I fucking hate being one."

McMahon had a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You're still a hard-headed jackass, Cena. Any normal person would have to use a goddamn crowbar to pry anything important out of you."

"Sor-ry. Just born this way." I scoffed.

"Alright then," McMahon said, his smile turning into a challenging smirk. "If you're gonna be that way, that's just fine with me. So if you're not going to face the cops, would you at least let me do the questioning? You can't shut up forever, which I know you can't possibly handle to yourself. So what do you say?"

I thought for a moment. Vinnie Mac and I didn't exactly have the warmest, fuzziest relationship, since this guy always gives me warnings for dismissal for my misdemeanors for a million times now, but I know he can't do it anyway, because he didn't want to lose any of Springville's shining stars, for fear of no one enrolling here.

To McMahon, money and power was everything. Who knows? Maybe after this discussion, he'll probably leave me alone.

"Okay, aight," I replied. "Get a hat, a baton, and a gun for all I care. Hell, I can wait right here."

"Let me start now, at least," McMahon dictated, sitting up straighter in his chair. He fished out reading glasses from the drawer, wearing it down to the bridge of his nose, then he shuffled some papers in his desk. "Where were you before the incident happened?"

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "On the parking lot watching Eddie and Rey throw up."

McMahon grinned. "Ah, the two heirs of the Latino legacy. Go on."

"I was about to drive them home when I heard some noises coming from the ledge of the hotel, so…" I said, letting my voice drift away, knowing the principal will get my point.

McMahon bunched his brows. "You have now gotten to the part of Wight trying to throw Wilson off the ledge. Do you know why he took her up there?"

"I-I don't know…" I stammered, for fear that I'm just jumping to conclusions.

"Come on, Cena. Just tell me what you know." McMahon urged.

I sighed. "You asked for it. We all lost the Great American Award that night to that loon Bradshaw. I thought that was the reason Big Show snapped, but I was dead wrong."

"Why is that?"

"Show was screaming at Torrie that time, something about her making fun of him when he lost the award."

McMahon's brows were so bunched together, his wrinkles were showing, a look of confusion. "Wilson making fun of Wight? Seems uncanny for the young lady to do that to him."

"I know."

"What happened next?"

"Kurt Angle showed up. He went up to the balcony to save Torrie, trying to tell Show he really was a fool. They trash-talked the whole while, until Show grabbed Angle by the neck, and then…"

I paused, the words somehow caught in my throat. McMahon raised his brows. "And then what, Cena?"

I bent my head down. "He threw Angle off."

Silence descended on the office. My wrists were balled up tight, my knuckles turning white with my actions. Mr. McMahon exhaled a long deep breath, studying me with his perturbed expression.

"I would like to say that Kurt Angle suffered a grade three concussion because of that fall," McMahon regarded me calmly. "A trauma like that would have broken you and Wilson down yourself. Up until now, Angle still isn't waking up."

"What about the leg?" I said huskily.

"The leg…it's a different story."

I didn't say anything. Just when you thought the pressures of the last week was now melting away, here goes another one to bother you one more.

"It's hard for me to tell his parents the news, but I'll have to take the risk," he went on. "By now, I would like to keep these matters personal for a while until Kurt Angle returns to school. If ever you're going to tell it to anyone, make sure they know how to keep secrets. Is that understood, Cena?"

I nodded politely.

"In case you want to know, Paul Wight is now expelled from the team, but he is still under probation, and I'm gonna make him take anger management classes until this problem subsides."

"Anger management?!" I repeated, rebuffed. "The guy almost killed someone!"

"I'll make the decisions here, Cena," McMahon declared, pounding his palms on the desk. "I'll have no choice but to suggest earlier curfews around this place."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. If this is what McMahon wants, that's fine with me. It would be much better if he left me alone now, never talking about his subject anymore for the rest of my life. I've had it all up to hear. I don't even know why I care.

"Well, that's all I have to say," McMahon concluded. "You have explained your side very well, providing me enough evidence to the police about your story, but I hope I'll never see you in this office again. You have to get on your track."

Out of the groove. Off the track. That's turning into the story of my life.

I rose from my chair and extended my hand to Principal McMahon, to show there were no hard feelings. I couldn't trust my own voice, but at least I could make the gesture. He shook it warmly.

"Thank you very much, John Cena," he said. "You're dismissed."

After I left the office, I didn't know if that conversation made me feel better. In fact, I felt worse than ever. Leaving the main building, I headed to the dormitory, wanting to talk to Eddie and Rey, knowing that they would understand.

When I reached the dormitory, I sprinted to both their rooms. I knocked and knocked, but no one even answered. Then I noticed a piece of paper taped on the knob. I took it, reading the message inside.

_To J,_

_If you are reading this, we're obviously not around. Eddie dumped Vicky before Spring Night. Caught her hanging out with Evolution in the RRC. Gone to the mall for babe hunting. Might sleep at Eddie's and come back tomorrow. _

_About the incident past week…we really hope you're fine. Me and Ed are getting worried about you, so don't do anything stupid. Love, Ed and Rey._

_P.S. Don't worry—we'll tell you more about the breakup. We'll see ya tomorrow._

AGAIN. Another girlfriend dumped by Eddie because of Evolution. Maybe I'll have to talk to Randy about this. Or maybe not. If I was in the mood. Even so, it's so hard to think of Eddie getting over something so easily.

There goes a snowball's chance in hell for letting all my frustrations out. I leaned my head against the door, crumpling the note and throwing right on the floor. No one was around to notice me anyway.

I shielded my face with my hands. I feel like I'm getting a nervous breakdown.

"I need to drive," I blurted out in the silence of the hallway. Then I walked down to the staircases and exited the dormitory, burying my hands to my pockets as I walked to the parking lot.

Yes, you heard it right. When I say I needed a drive, which means I have a car. I held my breath when I reached my new vehicle.

There it was. A metallic blue BMW. Dad finally caved in after my bellyaching and sent this baby right to me just this morning. A few people actually stared at the car with envious looks this morning, and being a swellheaded guy such as me should be going around and bragging to the people. But like I said; I wasn't in the mood. Getting a car in this time of tragedy would get my excitement looking like sparklers rather than skyrockets. By now, the car is still beautiful, but it seemed to lose its life and luster in the inside.

Just like me.

I shrugged, opening the car door and hopped inside, inserting the key in its ignition, revving up the engine. I took out a CD from the glove compartment and turned up the volume in the radio. When I took the wheel, I sped the car out of the parking lot, out of the SC campus. As I drove on the road, I didn't really know where I was going, but it was enough to make me do something rather than pulling my hair out.

Passing through medium-sized buildings, seeing a couple of teenagers skateboarding and girls doing it with the roller blades, I sang along with the radio, gradually relaxing. I hope I won't see anyone important, or my day will be officially ruined. That's one thing I won't be able to handle, because I will go totally irate again and get the short-term memory effect.

"_La la la la la, it's the motherfuckin' D-O double G, Snoop Dogg!" _I sang out. "_La la la la la, you know I mark it with a D-R-E…"_

Suddenly, I saw a flash of two familiar blondes in a certain café. I stepped on the breaks hard just in time to stop the car at the place across it. I killed the engine and glided silently down the tree-shrouded street. I sneaked up on the same café from the opposite side of the street and rolling to a stop at the curb about a yard away. It wasn't the optimum viewing site, but I was feeling kinda nervous to go any closer. From where I parked, I could see the café' sign by the door and small chairs and tables lined up outside, and if I leaned way forward I could just glimpse the front of the café.

The door sign said "Café de Rene."

"Well, where have I seen that before?" I muttered.

I was still trying to figure out why the owner of that café would choose such a stupid name until I saw one of the familiar blondes once again coming out from the inside of the café. It was Rene Dupree, wearing a good suit, talking to someone from the door. And as usual, he has a white poodle in one hand, the same poodle mutt that he just recently named Fifi.

Before I could react, I saw the other blonde come out…only this time it was a girl. Tall, tan, with curly blonde hair…

My jaw dropped. _Torrie?!_

I was completely awestruck. How could she have gotten over her trauma? It took me a week, dammit! And now she's dating someone? What about me?

"Calm down, Johnny," I reminded myself. Then I turned my head back on the café and squashed down in my seat even lower. Dupree was now helping Torrie to a chair, then they both sat down and chatted for a while.

I felt my face grow hot. This French fry was asking for more pranks. Dating a girl that I'm hitting on. I realized at that time that I had never truly been jealous before. I was completely unprepared for the racing heart and roaring in my ears that accompanied the sight of that—that Dupree's hand on Torrie's arm. I was so upset I could barely breathe.

Shaking my head, I decided to eavesdrop. Torrie and Dupree were still chatting, and from this distance, it was enough to hear what they are talking about.

"Is this a good seat, sweetheart?" I heard Dupree ask Torrie.

Torrie nodded. "Yes, I'm good enough right here."

"Sweetheart," I mocked. I continued to strain my ears.

"Now, can I ask you something?" Dupree said as he poured red wine on Torrie's wineglass. "Why were you laughing at the Big Show last Friday?"

Torrie's eyes widened, obviously taking the question unexpectedly. She didn't reply.

"It's just a simple question, Torrie," Dupree said. "Why were you laughing at the Big Show last Friday?"

Torrie got out of her trance. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't expect that…" she stammered. "Like I said to the police, I wasn't laughing at the Big Show. I was laughing at Jackie's joke when Big Show came. Honestly!"

Ah! So that what happened! Torrie was innocent this whole time!

Dupree let out a fake guffaw. "You expect me to believe that?"

I drew back in my seat. What the hell was Dupree talking about?

"I-I thought we're here to talk about—''

"You're lying to me, Torrie, You're so obvious…" Dupree drawled, cutting Torrie off. "It was your fault. If it wasn't for you, Kurt Angle would now be sitting in front of me drinking and enjoying our French wine."

My jaw dropped again. Torrie looked completely offended as she stood up abruptly, backing off a few steps, a look of complete hurt in her lovely face.

"It was your fault, Torrie," Dupree went on, going near her. "You are vain and selfish. It just goes to show…that Fifi…isn't the only bitch in this restaurant!"

"What…the…hell…" I hissed. What's more annoying than seeing the girl you like dating another guy was the same guy offending the girl you like. I ran my hand through the car door handle, ready to hop out of the car.

But even before I opened my door, Torrie retaliated—and did the most unexpected—she slapped Dupree right across the face. Dupree felt his face, turned back to Torrie, grabbed a wineglass, and threw the red wine right on Torrie's eyes. Torrie shrieked, rubbing her eyes, blinded by the alcohol, the stain completely going through her brown dress. Then Dupree carried her body up, attempting to do a body slam, something amateur athletes do to their enemies.

Before Dupree threw her down, I snapped out of my hypnosis and hopped out of the car, ran down across the street, and speared Dupree with my shoulders like a bull. Dupree writhed in pain as he let go of Torrie, her body caught perfectly by my arms, crashing plates and stumbling along tables and chairs in the process. Before Dupree got up, I ran across the street with a blinded Torrie still in my arms, put her inside my car, went to the driver's seat, revved up the engine, stepped on the gas pedal, and drove back to SC, desperate to get away from the restaurant.

"Where—what—'' Torrie got out, still rubbing her eyes.

Not taking my eyes off the road, I reached for the glove compartment and opened it, fishing out a day-old water bottle and then I gave it to her. "Rub your eyes with this," I told her.

Torrie took the water bottle from my hands with her eyes widely shut. Then she washed her eyes down with the water, blinking and blinking continuously. The smell of red wine stunk the interior of the car, so I rolled down the windows to let the smell out.

When Torrie finally managed to open her eyes, her gaze immediately gave me an immediate once-over. "Cena? Why are you—''

"Dupree threatened to body slam you when you were blinded," I said, ready for my explanation. "I just passed by and then I came—''

"You saved my life," Torrie finished for me.

I nodded, embarrassed. "Yeah…that was the idea."

Torrie's gaze shifted to the window. "Just—just take me home, please…"

"No, you won't," I told her. "That French fry will be bound to get you again. Stay in our common room for a while."

Torrie's eyes went to her lap. "O-Okay…"

After few silent minutes, I parked my car right in front of the SC parking spaces. I turned off my engine and hopped out, going on to the other side of the vehicle to open Torrie's car door. She managed to stand up, but she was still slightly trembled. I took off my blue SC jacket and held it up in front of her.

"Wear my jacket," I offered.

Torrie hesitated, then stepped towards me, her high heels echoing on the tar and concrete beneath us. I reached out to wrap my jacket around her, her eyes still on her feet, too scared and shy to look at me.

I felt half nervous, half excited. I actually expected Torrie to cry now and then, but she didn't. I slipped an arm around her shoulders, not even flinching one bit. We started to walk together to the dormitory. When we reached our building, I was relieved to see there were actually few people around. I made a final turn to a corridor and then guided her to the common room.

The common room was on the right on the lobby of the dormitory. There were cushy sofas, large carpets, and coffee tables surrounding the big chandelier hung up on the ceiling, providing warm light for the common room. There were sodas and snack machines lining the walls, and soft music floated in the air, giving the common room a nice, homey design.

I let Torrie sit down to one of the sofas as I looked for quarters inside my throwbacks pocket, running to the soda machines. Then I went back to her, handing her a fresh, unopened bottle. "Here. Drink this."

Torrie took it, eyeing the label. "Papaya?"

"It's good for the belly."

Torrie opened the juice and drank some as I sat down right beside her. Neither of us said anything at the moment. Torrie drank up half of the bottle until she spoke.

"Look…I…uh…I'm really sorry about this," she said.

"Don't be," I replied.

Torrie looked at me, her green eyes holding my blue ones. "But I am. What I'm really trying to say is that…thank you. For saving my life. For saving our lives."

I shrugged, trying to humor her. "I get that all the time."

Torrie chuckled quietly. I fixed my confused gaze at her. "You…you're laughing."

Torrie made a face. "What? Were you actually expecting me to cry?" she challenged.

I nodded. "Kind of."

"Well, you're wrong," Torrie said, smirking. "A girl like me can't always be touchy the whole time."

I cocked a brow. "Why is that?"

Torrie sighed. "Because I've been through that road before. And it got me a lifetime of looking over my shoulder. I don't want to go back there again."

I understood what she said. "Don't look back, look forward. Is that it?"

Torrie nodded, smiling. "Yeah…that's the one."

We went silent again. What I really wanted to do was to ask her about that frenzy with Big Show, but now that I heard it a moment ago right from her mouth, Torrie proved to herself that she was innocent. She looked like she didn't want to talk about it anymore, and neither do I. Besides, McMahon's warning really hit me at home.

_If ever you're going to tell it to anyone, make sure they know how to keep secrets._

Secrets. Yeah right. Like a normal guy would even get to keep one in this school. Torrie was into the whole accident anyway—no one needed to keep a secret around her. I was so drowned in my own thoughts that I tried not to notice Torrie staring at me. I squirmed in my seat, feeling uncomfortable.

"Wh-why are you looking at me like that?" I said distractedly.

Torrie tilted her head, looking more closely at me. "You know…I really haven't noticed it before...but you _are_ really cute."

I couldn't say anything at that moment. The hottest girl in SC just told me that I'm cute. Of course no one human would react so easily! I looked back at her again. Despite her now messy hair and the odor of wine still clinging at her, she still looked beautiful.

I blinked, thinking that this was a dream. "I-I'm sorry I was hallucinating. What?"

Torrie chuckled again. "And humorous too. I'm really serious Cena. I never really gave much attention until now. And the people love you too, especially the ones from RRC. You must be mighty proud of yourself."

"I guess," I blurted out. "Well…I think you're really nice."

Torrie smiled and looked away, blushing. If I'm gonna tell this girl how I really feel, it would have to be the perfect time. So if I'm gonna still meet her in the near future…well…I'll just have to wait for that.

"So are you gonna be alright?" I asked her.

Torrie nodded, taking deep breaths. "Yes. I'll be fine."

I nodded too, leaning back in my seat. Then Torrie spoke up again.

"You're a really cool guy, Cena. We ought to hang out sometime."

I thought about what she said. The tension of Kurt/Big Show incident was still in the air between us, but what the heck? What's the point of turning back to the past when you could see what's happening next? In this past week, I thought of nothing but fear, anger…but there is still tomorrow. I have my friends, my reputation that I would still like to hold on to, and a girl that I would like to my chances with. I know I will survive. I always do.

_Don't look back. Look forward._

I looked at Torrie, who looked slightly confused. Then I smiled widely at her.

"Like I said, honey. I'm happy to be around."

**(t.b.c.)**

**This must be the suckiest chapter I've ever made. And I'm sure you guys are thinking the same, I'm not perfect you know. Please tell me if this was THE SUCKIEST CHAPTER I'VE EVER MADE!!! **


	12. A Beautiful Day

_ "All students please report to the school auditorium IMMEDIATELY."_

I looked up from my discman playing my new Method Man CD to the speakerbox mounted on the wall of the classroom. The two Latino fools were beside me; little Rey sitting up straighter and yawning, while the rambunctious Eddie stopped writing who-knew-what's on his notes. Professor Smith, our homeroom advisor, snuffed and scowled, closing her large text with a thud.

"Now what is Vince up to this time?" she said through her coffee-stained teeth.

Everyone groaned. Smith was known for this; keeping everyone cramped in this room to continue this freakin' discussion when everyone must be going to the auditorium right now. And I don't want to look like a reject waiting for what's going to happen next, so I did what I had to do and nudged Eddie with my elbow. He raised his arm until the professor finally noticed him.

"Yes, Mr. Guerrero?" the professor called.

"Um, Prof, shouldn't you let us go now? The big_ mamacita _clerk did say all students, so…"

Smith crossed her arms. "Really, Mr. Guerrero? If your principal wants all children not to learn anything in values, then by all means, go."

Upon saying those words, all the students stood up from their seats and headed to the doors, ignoring the professor's pleas that she was just being sarcastic. Everyone was bored anyway, and Smith's discussion only composed of the dos and don'ts of a teenager, the topic she was currently mangling.

"Damn…that Smith is really whacked," Rey said to us the moment we're out of the room. "Why discuss values when everyone around here is practically _loco_?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, my little _compadre_," Eddie told him. "Worry about what'll happen and why we were all called out. Maybe the Big Boss will let us dismiss early."

I chuckled. "Yeah. Dream on."

We continued to walk through the student-suffused quad until we made it to the outside gardens where the auditorium was. Weather was fair, everything was good, finals are over, Spring Night was a memorable event and still a success (for some people), and tomorrow was the first day of vacation. Need I say more?

Then I noticed Rey looking closely at me. "Well, someone is quite a happy trooper today…"

"Of course I am. "Lovely days, just got paid, stack it up, be on my way…you know what I'm saying?"

Eddie and Rey smiled at each other, then lolled their eyes skyward as if they're praying. "Twista," they both breathed. I only laughed.

"So how are the Torrie-hanging days going?" Eddie asked me.

"Good," I answered, yanking my chains. "It's been like a daze, but I think she finally forgotten everything that had happened."

Rey sighed. "That's cool. I can't imagine being on those heels."

"Damn right you are, _holmes_," Eddie agreed. "Big Show was one scary brute gone totally bonkers. Glad he was expelled."

I nodded. After that little talk with Torrie back on the common room, the two of us have been together the whole week. Well, not exactly together-together. Just treat her to coffee and pizza, play Manic Marauders with her in the Danger Zone arcade, though I never encountered a girl scoring about a record-breaking thousand points.

But mostly, all we did was talk. Talk about what we want and hate, our stuff, school…anything that comes through our minds. But we're not dating—I haven't even suggested that. We're just hanging out like friends do.

I sigh. Yup, definitely just hanging out and being friends.

"Do you have plans with her tonight, J?" Rey asked me.

I thought for a moment. "Actually, yes. We're gonna watch that new SpongeBob Squarepants flick she always rambles about. Don't get me wrong, I like the show and all, and personally, I can't wait."

"Wow! You've got to be some hunk to hang out with her, that fine _chica_," Eddie breathed. "But don't forget our outing tomorrow in Long Beach…"

I smirked. "I know. I'm definitely coming."

Finally, we reached the auditorium, and the three of us sat in front. Everyone started talking excitedly. No one around here seems to know the reason why everyone was called out. I sank comfortably in my seat, predicting that maybe this one was just some type of end-of-school year announcement or something.

But I was dead wrong.

As soon as everyone was settled down, a loud, anthemic star-spangled music started to play that made everyone fell silent. And I thought that there was only one person—one person—who would withstand humiliation, pain, shame and damnation, possessing an authority no one would ever claim. A foolish yet very pompous person who was known to meddle in anyone's affairs for his haughty amusement.

Okay…maybe I've gone Shakespeare-deep with that. English translation is: The one that could do something this crazy and goddamned stupid is someone we all know. But who?

After minutes of long thinking, the answer hit me like a bolt of lightning. Could it be…? Nah.

But could it?

Then I felt Eddie shudder beside me. I asked him what's wrong.

"You know what, John? I suddenly have a bad feeling about this…" he answered.

"You and me both, Ed," Rey told him. "The only idiot who could do this is—''

Suddenly everyone gasped and started chattering loudly, cutting Rey off. When my eyes went back to the stage…well, I was shocked myself.

The person who've just made this silly entrance was the one and only pomp, our General Manager.

None other than Kurt Angle.

Yup, Lumpy is definitely back, clad in his usual dorky clothes, and still pretty much bulbheaded. Except that he was in a wheelchair, his left leg in a hard cast up to his thigh, and he was pushed on the stage by his stooge Luther Reigns. Even from a distance I saw a bandage sticking out from the back; a small white square right in the middle of his bald head and his nape.

The auditorium became noisy. Each student acted differently like they've just seen a ghost. Eddie and Rey were cussing loudly in Spanish, while I…let's just say I sank down in my seat even lower, holding the handrests tight with my eyes set straight on that damn red-curtained stage.

And believe me, this isn't how I usually act. 'Nuff said.

When the music stopped, Luther gave Angle a microphone as the auditorium eventually quieted down. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, opened it, then he closed it again. And from my sharp lookout, I saw tears threatening to spill in his beady little eyes.

"I stand here before you all as the General Manager," Angle finally said. "This past week I have been hospitalized and horribly bedridden…my leg is injured beyond repair. I was already looked over by the best doctors in the state, and they all said the same thing."

Everyone, myself included, strained to listen.

"I can never walk again!" he cried.

A murmur swept through the entire auditorium. Again, everyone reacted differently to what Angle had just said. So he would never play football again. I can live with that. It's his totally jutted ass being handicapped forever that really bothers me. I don't know why, though.

"And it never would have happened if it wasn't for all of you!" Angle affirmed angrily, pointing to the whole student body.

Now, everyone reacted like they have just been insulted. He blames his injury on all of us?! Why, I was the one who saved him in Spring Night! Sort of a different term for 'save'. At this moment, students started to mock and make fun of him as if he didn't almost die. I know it's nasty, but I wouldn't help it if Angle did say that to my face.

"Stop making fun of me!" Angle yelled in a wobbly voice. "I'm injured, and you think it's funny! I blame all of you, I blame the Big Show…you all should go to hell!"

Now that I think about it, it was kind of funny in a sick way. Before I could react, everyone began the "YOU SUCK" chant. Angle didn't respond; he just stared down the crowd for a long time, waiting for them to quiet down. And they did.

Angle took the mic back to his mouth again. "And then there's Torrie Wilson."

Everyone incoherently cheered at the sound of one of Springville's cheerleading pride. But Angle wasn't smiling at all once he said her name, and it definitely wasn't a good sign. A bad feeling started to brew at the pit of my gut.

"Torrie, I would like you to come up here right now because I have something to say to you," Angle said flintily.

Before anyone would even cheer, Angle took over the microphone again. "Cut the cheering! Cut it right now! Just get down here, Torrie!"

"Kurt seems really angry, _vatos_," Eddie whispered to us. "This is getting serious."

"Out of control, you mean," Rey corrected him. "I don't think Torrie has to get up there."

But she did. Before I even knew it, the pretty blonde had just passed our row of seats. I watched as she slowly went up to the stage, and stood up about 10 feet away from Angle's wheelchair. Even there I saw her lips saying that she didn't do anything to make Big Show angry, his accident was at the wrong place and time, and none of it was her fault. But it looks like Lumpy wasn't listening.

"Luther, get Torrie in front of me," Angle ordered.

The tall, Mohawk-haired stooge obeyed, gripping Torrie's shoulder as he pulled her towards Angle. Everyone went irate. I gritted my teeth and stood up from my chair, ready to charge but Eddie and Rey both pushed me back down with all their strength.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" I demanded.

"Relax, _holmes_," Eddie told me warily. "We'll let you go in a jiff. Charging the bulbhead now would be a bad idea. Trust me."

And so I followed Eddie; begrudgingly sinking down in my cushy chair, but I could hardly keep still. There's no telling what Angle might do to Torrie, and thinking about it more makes me want to scream in impatience. I continued to watch the scene before me. Torrie was now in front of Angle, continuing to reason with him, but the pomp wasn't listening again.

"If there's one person to blame for this injury," Angle told her sternly. "It's _ you_."

The crowd meticulously booed Angle off, obviously ticked as Torrie lowered her eyes.

"Because of you Torrie, I can no longer have sex with my girlfriend anymore!" Angle bawled at her.

Now, the crowd went with a unanimous "EWWWWW!"

"_Asqueroso!_" Rey said, repulsed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Did he really have to say _that?!_"

I curled my lip. "If you had no life, yeah, you would reveal that,"

"And now, since you're the center of this whole consequence, I'm gonna let Rene Dupree continue what he wants to do to you. I want you to feel my pain, Torrie. I want you to suffer with every last breath you take," Angle seethed. "Luther, get me out of here."

Spoken like a true dumbass, Angle was now wheeled off by Luther and disappeared inside the navy blue curtains. And as if he was hearing his presence called, the self-proclaimed French phenom strutted out from nowhere and went in front of Torrie.

A perverted look passed over Dupree's face immediately. He went near Torrie and twirled a strand of her hair. She swatted his hand away, but that only made him look even more perverted. Seeing that, Torrie slapped the guy for a second time, this one hurting even more than the last. The audience were taken aback.

Feeling his stinging cheek, Dupree carried Torrie's whole body up again, and as I saw only a few days ago, another attempt of a body slam was now taking place.

But not on my watch.

In a daze, I stood up from my chair, ran up to the stage, and speared the French fry again with my shoulders in lightning speed that made him go in a knock-out zone, flat on the floor. I caught Torrie in my arms, catching her light body perfectly, but I put her back down again when he sat up. He stormed in front of me and punched me continuously, until I gave him a spine-buster that left him out cold.

After that, I immediately went back to Torrie's side.

"John…?" Torrie whispered hoarsely. "What are you—''

"Don't worry, honey," I murmured. "I'm here."

Everyone in the audience cheered as if we were an item. I raised my brows. Eddie and Rey ran up from the stage and accosted us.

"Come on _esse_," Eddie said rigidly. "Let's get out of here before this gets crazy!"

With that, we all ran down the stage, out of the auditorium, and back to the dormitory common room. No one was there, so it was safe to fuss around. As soon as we got there, we were panting our butts off.

"That was close," Rey huffed, sitting down from the carpet.

"I hate to say this," I got out between gasps. "But this has been exciting,"

"Not for someone here, that's for sure," Eddie said to us, motioning us to look behind him.

Torrie was on the sofa, squirming uncomfortably, a look of total confusion in her face. Seeing her like that made the excitement melt away from my expression. I started to walk towards her, but Eddie intervened with a hand in my arm.

"Just leave her be, _holmes_," he informed. "This was one crazy day for her."

I nodded, torn, and sat down next to Torrie, as the two Latinos walked away from us in a short distance to keep a sharp lookout.

** -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

"Coast is clear, _hermanos_," Rey updated.

It was now 6:00 in the evening. All the students respectively went back to the dorms, and surprisingly none of them interrogated us. Instead I saw them walking around with smiles on their faces, their days obviously have been made. Don't forget; tomorrow's the first day of vacation. And the seniors who will be leaving here must have a pocket full of memories.

I was still sitting next to Torrie, who still hasn't said a word after that incident. Lumpy and Luther didn't show up at all, but I'm sure they've heard about it now. Eddie and Rey sat down on the sofa across ours, watching me and Torrie, shooting us both with sympathetic expressions.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked her.

No answer.

"Come on, Torrie. Talk to me please."

She looked up at me, and I thought if I was too harsh. She had to face her problems sometime, but after all, she wasn't a strong and overpowering person who can fight off someone with a punch. She's just…a girl. A girl that I really like.

"I-I'm sorry—'' I began.

"No, don't be," she said. "I'm fine."

I didn't know what else to say. Eddie and Rey were now making a 'move-on' look. I was about to open my mouth until Torrie interrupted me.

"Why do you keep doing this?" she asked me.

I was confused. "Doing what?"

"Saving me."

"I want to."

"How can you even say that?" Torrie requested. "I mean…you hardly know me…"

I raised my brows high up to my hairline. "Of course I do. I know you're smart and nice, I know you don't waste your money to buy clothes when you could make them, I know you could match your friends to guys when they're too shy to make a move, I know you care when sweaty people run out of towels, you're cute…you love riding around LA in your Beetle…"

I let my voice drift away, and from Torrie, Eddie, and Rey's expressions, I must have talked too much. Damn it, I can get carried away…

Surprisingly, Torrie laughed. "O-Okay, I can live with that…"

"Damn babe," said Eddie. "I actually expected you to bawl or something."

"Don't look back, look forward," Torrie announced, giving me a significant look when she said it.

Then I had an idea.

"How many punches did the Frenchman gave to me?" I asked to Eddie and Rey.

The two looked at each other, then back to me. "Twenty times," Rey answered.

"Twenty…" I echoed.

I was silent for a moment, then Eddie had this excited look on his face. "You're coming down with something, aren't you, Johnny?"

I nodded cockily. "Oh yeah. Could you guys do me 'the favor'?"

Eddie and Rey both whooped and cheered, giving high-fives to each other. Torrie became confused again.

"What favor is that?" she demanded.

"I'll tell you tomorrow." I promised.

Torrie smiled at me, her green eyes shining even more than usual. "Thank you John."

"For what?"

She shrugged. "For sticking around."

Torrie circled her arms around my back, her face leaning against my white Red Sox jersey shirt. She pulled me in for a hug, her head on my broad chest, falling in rhythm with my breathing, her eyes closed in bliss. I couldn't react; I couldn't even move. My hands remained in my side.

Then I felt a sudden, invisible blow in my chest, something that I've never felt before.

I suddenly felt weak. And my heart was beating double time. I looked at Eddie and Rey, and they were both smirking, their chins in their hands, as if they were enjoying the scene before them, as if they were watching a rerun of General Hospital. But I didn't care; my feelings heightened, I surely never felt this way about anyone before.

"Yeah…you're welcome…" I said groggily, pushing her gently away from me. She was still smiling at me, expecting me to say something. Then I reddened and looked away. I didn't know what's wrong with me.

"So…uh…do we still have time for that movie?" Torrie asked awkwardly, her face red as well.

I looked at the wall clock. "There's still an hour."

Torrie suddenly brightened, then turned to Eddie and Rey. "I know! Why don't you come watch the movie with us?"

I agreed and then felt generous. "She's right, you guys. Join us. It'll be fun."

"I don't mind," Rey piped in. "I watch SpongeBob too."

Eddie laughed. "Oh sure, we all want to watch the talking cheese in his movie debut. But we'll come only under one condition, Torrie. Come with us to the Long Beach party tomorrow. I guarantee you: you'll have a time of your life there, _chica_. What do you say?"

Torrie nodded, her blond curls bobbing. "Sure. I'll go. But only if you let me take someone."

"Sure you can," I said to her. "The more the merrier."

Eddie clapped his hands together. "So it's settled. Let's go to that movie before the kids beat us there first."

We all laughed and stood up from our seats, walking together to the parking lot to my BMW. But mostly, I can't wait for him and Rey to do 'the favor.' Don't worry…you'll find out what that means soon.

I opened the passenger door to let Torrie in, and when she smiled up at me again from the black leather seat, my heart nearly flipped over. And I'm not feeling embarrassed or angry anymore. I felt…_happy_.

After all that has gone on, it was still a beautiful day.

**(t.b.c.)**

** Apologies for the rather late update... lots of things to do and I haven't got time to log in the net...**

**and because I love you guys so much, I have to make a favor to a friend of mine (mitchy: THAT'S ME!) to upload this chapter for me. hope it's all worth the wait...thanks guys!**


	13. Swimming Beach

**Hey hey fellas! I'm baaa-ck!**

**So sorry it took so long...my computer's giving me no consideration thatI ended up paying someone for a typing job, and I officially became a lazy ass. As you have noticed I've changed the title of the fic--John Cena is not considered a misanthropic anyways. Like it?**

**Must've been blabbing too much...here's Chap 13!**

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"I'm hungry. I'm going to the concession stands, _esses_."

"Ed, no! We have to find a spot first!"

"Well hurry up and find one now! These things are heavy!"

"FYI! We're all carrying something!"

I sighed as I hoisted my backup higher above my shoulders while Eddie and Rey continued to babble on. There were other people with us—Rob Van Dam and Charlie Haas were both smirking and Dawn Marie, Jackie and Torrie were giggling at the two Latinos little argument. The girls were carrying beach blankets; Rob and Charlie brought the umbrellas, Eddie and Rey bringing the separate coolers of beer and soda, while I volunteered to carry the girls' bags.

"Alright you two. Babble on," I said loudly. "Because I already found ourselves a spot. So go on and be my guest."

There. That shut both of them up as they shrugged, reached into their wine coolers and got themselves a beer. The girls already spread their blankets on a spot almost to the shore, shedding off their tank tops and shorts to show off their bikinis. As I set down their bags on the sand, Rob and Charlie already assembled the umbrellas on the sand and ran off to buy ice cream. I was taking off my shirt just as a group of 16-something high school girls passed by and gawked at me. I winked at them in return. They giggled maddeningly and continued to walk.

It was the first day of summer for everyone in Long Beach, described by lots of people in different ages throwing themselves in the water and the sand. After eating dinner at Sam's, we couldn't come in a better time, but we decided to go here in afternoon because it spread like wildfire around school campus that there was going to be an open beach party for the SC and RRC. It was already proven correct because I've already seen a lot of familiar faces around. The sun was still shining, the water was clear, and the sand was barely stifling.

I have to admit, I've been in a good mood as of lately. With the company of Torrie, Eddie and Rey, the movie last night was wicked awesome. SpongeBob was still a dumbass. But nothing could change my Torrie-hanging days, just as the two Latinos called it.

Rob and Charlie went back with sundae cones for each of us. When Charlie gave one to each of the girls, the high-flying black belted known in RRC was trying to assemble another umbrella in the sand, but it was too heavy and he was already losing grip on the cones. I rushed up to him.

"Need any help?"

Rob looked up, looking confused. "I thought you hated me, bro."

I rolled my eyes, sniggering. "You were in RRC then, and I hate the people there. Look who you are hanging out with now."

"So am I officially in the club?"

"Only if you give me one of those sundaes."

He laughed and handed me one as I opened the umbrella and stabbed it on the sand right above the blankets. The three girls were already at the beach, their high-pitched laughter catching the attention of Eddie and Rey. The Latinos took off their shirts and joined them, their trunks flapping in the wind. I brushed the sand off my blue trunks and sat with Rob and Charlie, joining in their chat. I ate my ice cream as I listened.

"I thought you had that big dinner at Sam's, Cena," Charlie suddenly told me. "You are such a hog."

"Oh, just shut it Charles," Rob objected. "He may be a hog, but at least a very good looking one. Just look at those six packs. Even the junior high girls around here are getting the sands wet with all their drooling."

I smiled cockily. "Thanks for the comment, ninja-dude. But I'll keep Charlie's opinion in mind or I might be blocking instead of running next year."

They laughed appreciativelyat my gibe.

When it was the hour of the sunset, the girls and the Latinos already finished up playing in the shore and went back to the blankets, totally wet and sandblasted. As I watched, Jackie edged closer to Charlie in a purple tie-dye and Dawn wearing a slinky red number making her way to Eddie.

Then I checked out Torrie in her simple green getup as she approached me, and the way she smiled at me said that she finds me quite me interesting as well, which was a really good thing. When she sat down next to me, we've been the object of significant looks and smiles. I guess we weren't as smart as we thought we are. But what the heck, they figured it out at least.

Eddie opened the cooler again. "Anyone up for strong and light Buds?"

Soon we were settled down together, simply chatting and drinking beer, emptying the cooler. Although it was really hard to swallow the bitter stuff because Eddie and Rey started telling these unknown locker-room moments, jokes and candid stories, which is really funny shit. When Eddie finished up about 3 cans, he had gotten worse.

"…and then the bulbheaded _hombre_ Kurt Angle told me to stop laying it up there! He told me, 'You are not Michael Jordan to do that kind of thing!' and I said, 'Hey! You need to get laid, _holmes_!'"

I laughed loudly along with the others, never minding the judgmental stares from the people next to us. Eddie was just so damn funny—maybe it was because of the joke or his perfect impersonation of the King of Heels Kurt Angle. I just couldn't stop myself, and it seems the others can't too.

"Hey, isn't that Randy Orton?" Rob blurted out after gulping a whole can.

Torrie and Dawn immediately looked around. "Where? Where?"

"I think he's over there, guys." Jackie pointed out.

I followed my gaze to where Jackie's finger was pointing. Tall, tan, and tattooed…it was Randy strutting near the shore, all right, along with two voluptuous blondes following her. I saw his lips move as if he was making a comment, then the two girls laughed heartily and sauntered off while waving their goodbyes at him. For a while he just stood there, hands on his hips, when the same group of schoolgirls who passed by me earlier just walked past him and leered at him this time. He smiled cockily and blew a kiss to them, making them giggle the same way.

Rey whistled, amused. "Now that's what I call swoon-worthy."

"So I guess it's him minus Evolution," Charlie observed.

"God, he looks so hot and look at that ass," Dawn murmured. "But his loss. At least I have Eddie."

"Yeah. At least you have me," Eddie said proudly, draping his arm over his new girlfriend's shoulders.

You got it right. Dawn is Eddie's new girl. They had only been dating for two weeks, but Eddie was absolutely crazy about her that whenever Rey and me are with him it was Dawn this, Dawn that. But this was the happiest I've already seen out of him and I'm just feeling glad for him. In fact, he looks a lot happier than with the time he was dating what's-her-name who was caught hanging with Evolution, like Rey told me.

Speaking of Evolution, Randy was still standing there on the shore, his red trunks contrasting to the orange sky. And none of his so-called friends were around, so I guess he was really flying solo for now.

"Shouldn't we invite him here with us?" Torrie suddenly suggested.

"No!" Eddie and Rey answered in unison.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that, only if he wasn't hanging with a bunch of steroid freaks like Hunter, Ric and Dave…" Charlie said quietly.

"But he is alone!" Dawn argued.

"He is, "Rob piped in. "I guess it's safer that way,"

Everyone forgot their argument and looked at Rob, baffled.

"What do you mean 'safer'?" I asked.

Rob laughed softly. "I know you all hate him because he is acting like Hunter Jr., but I don't blame you. Compared to the rest of the Evolution guys…Randy is the nicest one."

"Yeah right…" a few of the debaters scoffed.

"It's true!" Rob insisted. "If you don't believe me, ask my fellow draftee. Tell 'em Miss Jackie."

All eyes turned to Jackie. "Very well, then," she began. "Randall Keith Orton may be the youngest member of the faction. He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's good at everything he does and enjoys giving misery to the lowlifes. When he's not in Evolution, he just turns into this huggable teddy bear. It was really hard to believe that under that jerk was a smart, sweet classic heartthrob. But still, he was like, every RRC girl's dreamboat. No offense, Cena."

I held my palm up. "None taken. Do continue."

"Anyway, he may not have much friends outside Evolution, but that was where me and Rob came in. And trust me, based on my own experience, he even offered me to become his study buddy when I was getting lost in my math. And if it weren't for him I would've gotten an F! My final word is: the guy wouldn't even hurt a fly without Hunter telling him to. And that's what Mr. RKO is all about!" Jackie finished.

"Great speech Jackie," Rob told her with a laugh.

She smiled. "Thanks."

A unanimous reply of "Oh…" was heard in our circle, but I remained silent. Who am I to comment when everything Rob and Jackie said was true?

"Well if Rob and Jackie told their stand, I believe them," Eddie finally said. "Reel him in, ninja-boy. I would love to meet him."

Rob nodded. "Certainly." Then he stood up from the balnket and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey Orton!" he called.

The tall guy turned around and saw Rob, looking surprised then he grinned. "Hey there RVD!"

"Get in here! A lot of my friends here want to meet you!"

"Sure, be right with you!" And then Randy sprinted from the shore towards our blanket. It was a little far, so he had to run. And then I suddenly thought of a monkey version of David Hasselhoff as I watched him get to us. Tee hee hee…

"He looks like someone out of Baywatch Hawaii," Dawn breathed. "Don't you think he's cute, Tor?"

"Yeah…" Torrie answered, mesmerized.

"Okay everyone, he's coming," Eddie reminded us. "Let's just be nice to him. _Comprender_?"

Everyone nodded silently, just as Randy finally towered above us. Rob and Jackie stood up to give him a hug.

"I'm glad to see you guys," he told them, and then he looked around to each of us. "You starting a party without me?"

"Silly rabbit," Jackie scolded. "I would like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Charlie Haas."

Charlie stood up to shake his hand. "Great finally meeting you."

Randy smiled. "Same here, and you're lucky. Jackie's a great gal."

"Thanks."

"Here's Torrie and Dawn Marie…" Jackie continued.

The two girls smiled shyly at nodded at Randy. He bent down and kissed both their hands. "Why, aren't you just the two of the prettiest girls I ever did see."

Torrie and Dawn giggled and reddened.

"While this one is Latino Heat and Mr. 619…Eddie Guerrero and Rey Mysterio!" Rob introduced.

Eddie and Rey held their hands up and smiled at him. "_Ola_ _amigo_!"

Randy chuckled and also held his hand up. "Ola to you too."

"And that hot shot right there is John Cena," Jackie declared, pointing her pink tipped finger at me.

I jumped at the sound of my name. I looked up at Randy, who was now smirking at me cockily, daring me to challenge.

Fine then. Two can play that game.

"What's up?" I greeted him.

Randy shrugged and sat down beside Torrie. "Oh…just chilling."

The rest of the guys fell silent as Randy and I smirked at each other. I felt eight pairs of eyes clacking to both of us.

"You…you both sound like you know each other very well," Rob said slowly.

I guess now's the time to let the cat out of the bag. I was about to talk when Randy interrupted.

"As a matter of fact, we do." he informed, speaking for me. "Don't we, John?"

I nodded foolproof. "Absolutely Randy."

"Oh shit! You used to have a relationship as gay men aren't you?" Dawn deduced, paranoid.

Suddenly everyone just chuckled, letting the early tension seem to have faded away, letting me know that I'll have to thank Dawn someday. But Torrie, who was in the middle of all this, looked absolutely shocked.

"John, is this true?" she asked me.

"Yes, me and Randy know each other very well, and no, we never became controversial," I responded. "If I find out a guy has the hots for me, don't let me know."

"So Orton, uh…when and where did you and John first meet?" Jackie queried.

"Sixth grade," Randy replied. "Then we went to high school together on Ohio Valley."

"Isn't that sort of a boot camp for future SC and RRC athletes?" Charlie said.

"Bingo!" I dared to joke. "One point for Haas!"

"So if you've known each other for a long time, you must have known what Johnny looked like?" Rob asked curiously.

"Hey! Since when did my looks became the subject of all this!" I demanded.

"Don't worry John. Tell your side first," Randy regarded calmly. "Tell your friends what I looked like."

Everyone looked at me expectantly.

"Randy was a premature pimp," I got out.

The three girls stifled giggles while the rest of the guys snorted beer through their noses and let out choked guffaws. I was expecting Randy to hide under the blankets, but he was sitting down casually, smiling.

"Interesting. How can you say I was a pimp?" he said nonchalantly.

"How can I not?" I said disdainfully. "You were twelve years old you already have the chicks _and_ the hens lining up."

"That young?" Torrie piped in. "Impressive."

"Yeah. Impressive is the word," I burst out. "I was just his second shadow."

"Why were you a second shadow, _holmes_?" Eddie asked nosily.

They all looked at me expectantly like I was their medical experiment, probing the hidden information within me with their accusing eyes. Oh dang, I talk too much.

Randy, on the other hand, was sending me a message with his patented cocked eyebrow, as if he was trying to say, "_Should I tell 'em? _''

I shrugged as a reply. _"Be my guest."_

"I'd be happy to tell," Randy informed them. "John Cena was a total recluse when I first saw him. He was really quiet, in fact. Everyone made fun of him because he was the classified as one of the tall, lanky, and had a mouth full of braces type of kid."

He paused, and then continued. "Then the tryouts for the football team happened. I was lining up to give my application to the team captains when I saw him right there, lining up with the other new recruits. The bigger guys thought he wouldn't make it for five minutes, but when the drills started, he was declared the fastest runner in Ohio Valley High. The captain tried to test him by getting him all the tackles and obstacles crap, but he was still winning them over. He got everyone thinking that there's nothing he won't do. He was ultimately accepted, and I admit I was pretty impressed. When I came up to him and first talked to him…why, he was the sanest guy in the world!"

"You were laughing so hard because I talk funny," I reminisced. "Damn those braces."

"That too," Randy said with a smile.

Hours wore on, the sun was already down, and the party circuit lights all over Long Beach and brightened the horizon of seawater and sand. People were already setting up the said open party blankets away from ours. But Randy continued to talk, as if he was stuck in a deserted island for years and was now brought back to civilization. Most of his stories were about some unknown mishaps in RRC inside and outside campus. Now he was talking about when he spent his Christmas with Evolution, when he stole his little brother's walkie-talkies in a snowy night in his Missouri home.

"…and then Ric yelled, 'Come quick!', and then Dave suddenly came bursting through the door, looking like the Abominable Snowman!" he finished.

Everyone went in hysterics—but I didn't this time. Eddie and Rey were giving me significant furtive glances from time to time, and it gave me a pang of guilt. I'm not a moron, and I know why they were doing that. So I impulsively stood up and walked right behind them.

"Can I borrow you guys for a sec?" I whispered to them.

To my surprise, they both nodded, agreeing. The three of us walked away from the blankets, safely out their earshot, since Randy was telling another anecdote and they were all tittering their hearts out. When I turned to the two Latinos, they were observing me warily with judging expressions.

My eyes went down to my feet. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about—''

"J, stop it." Rey interrupted.

I looked up at them questioningly. "Huh?"

"Come on, Johnny. We're Mexicans, not idiots," Eddie said good-humoredly. "We know. What bugs us is why you didn't tell us about it, _esse_. But I guess Pretty Boy got you covered. That's love, _amigo_."

"Guys…Randy is from Evolution." I reminded them.

"Yeah, and he shouldn't be," Rey declared. "The guy acts nothing like Ric, Dave or even Hunter. We figured it was all a front."

I didn't say anything.

Eddie laid a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry _holmes_. Any friend of yours is also a friend of ours."

"Eddie's right, J," Rey agreed. "Randy's one cool dude. So I dig him for that."

A relieved smile broke from my sullen expression. Finally they understood. God, I just love these guys.

"Oh now that's what I call a smile from a hunk!" Eddie quipped. "Those braces are definitely worth it, _holmes_."

In a way of expressing my thanks, I stepped forward and bear hugged both of them. Besides it was only a friendly hug—but still a hug nonetheless.

Corny? So sue me.

"Hey Eddie," Rey called.

"Yes, Rey Rey?" Eddie responded.

"I think I'm turning gay."

"Me too, _esse vato_. John is a beautiful guy, and he's leaning against us. If I wasn't with Dawn, I would've pounced on him right now."

I laughed and shoved both of them playfully while they sniggered like kids. I admit I'm acting like a fag, but I couldn't help it.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Eddie exclaimed. "About your little order, John…"

My brows were bunched. "You guys did do me 'the favor' right?"

"Of course we did," Rey answered. "I even took a picture of him out of my 619 cam."

I was amazed. "Really? Can I see it?"

Eddie was already digging into his trunks pocket. He handed it to me, and I observed it a little.

I smirked. "Oh, everyone's gonna love this."

I hid the picture behind me and walked towards the blanket, Eddie and Rey following behind. Noticing our presence, they all looked up, including Randy.

I cleared my throat. "Torrie, we have something to show you."

The blonde blinked at the sound of her name. Not wasting any time, I handed her the picture right across the blanket, letting her look at it.

Her green eyes widened. "Oh my God!"

Hearing Torrie's reaction, Charlie, Jackie, Dawn, Rob and Randy started jockeying for positions close to her so they could see the picture.

The picture taken was actually a snapshot of Rene Dupree in an unknown location, gagged and hands roped behind him, his face black and blue from too much torture. And his arms were held up, as if he was begging for mercy. If you were really the sadistic type, you would really love it. I know I do!

"Is that Rene?" Randy mused, and then he turned to the three of us. "You guys are geniuses!"

Eddie and Rey smirked, impressed with themselves, while I just shrugged.

"You guys are just so mean!" Dawn scolded, but she couldn't peel her eyes off it.

Rob, Charlie and Jackie didn't say anything, for fear of offending someone. And by the way, Torrie'e eyes never left the picture.

I bit my lip and thought maybe I've gone a bit too far. Then again…all these and more was for the sake of sweet chocolate flavored revenge. No one gets their hands on Torrie. They have to go through me first, if they can.

I knelt down in front of her. "Now would be the time for you to say something?"

Torrie took a deep breath and finally looked at me. "All this torture…was this 'the favor' you were talking about?"

"Yes. Actually it was Eddie who invented this. Take it away Latino Heat."

"Oh, _si_ _si_!" Eddie said excitedly. "Now class…how many times did the Frenchman hit John Cena here?"

"Twenty," they all said unanimously.

"Well since Rey and I are doing it, we gave Rene a special twenty," Eddie explained. "I gave him about the correct number of blows with a steel chair, a kendo stick, and my own bare hands. But Rey here is a little guy, so there's a special ten blows for him."

Randy examined the picture again. "Fifty blows all in all? But you guys looked like you gave him more than fifty!"

Rey snickered. "That's the beauty of it."

We ended up snickering as well.

"But aren't you worried he might tell on you?" Torrie asked me worriedly.

I let out a hollow laugh. "Hell no girl! We found the bitch and shit in his bag. If he ever tried to whale on us I'll give him a special times twenty offer from each of us. He'll have the time of his semi charmed life."

"And you did this all for me?"

I shook my head. "No."

Torrie looked surprised.

"We did this for us." I professed.

Those words certainly flushed Torrie's cheeks. "Thank you."

I smirked as the rest of the guys went into a chorus of "Awwww…" but I didn't mind. The moon already shone the whole stretch of the beach, and the light reflected on her pretty face that made my stomach knot. All that mattered was the moment.

Then an invisible blow came to my chest. I put my hand over it and took a couple of deep breaths. After that I got myself back in control. Good thing no one noticed, since it was already dark.

Rey suddenly grabbed our attention. "Oh snap! Aren't The Rolling Stones having this one-night concert at the Staples Center two weeks from now?"

Everyone nodded excitedly, looking to have this arrange of plans, until Jackie intervened. "It would be fun if the tickets weren't all sold out."

Disappointed, the rest of us muttered and frowned, until Randy cleared his throat loudly, making everyone shut up.

"I have connections with the concert facilitators," he told us. "Maybe I could make some arrangements so we could all go."

"Wait, wait, wait," I cut him short. "Is this Evolution free?"

"Definitely," Randy answered quickly. "You have my word they will not know anything about it."

We all looked at each other, then at Randy, who was rather gulping stupidly like a little kid.

"Welcome to the Chain Gang, _esse_!" Eddie said happily.

After that, the rest of the "Chain Gang" gave Randy a little initiation rite of their own (I really couldn't describe how to say it), but at least his little announcement saves me from not spending all of my money. Finally I'm going to the concert of the legendary rock icons, and personally I can't wait.

Somewhere in the commotion, someone's knee suddenly knocked behind my head, lunging it forward.

Into the lips of Torrie.

She looked equally shocked as I am, our lips still stuck together. When I pulled my head back, those pretty orbs were still wide open. And no one saw anything else except us.

Then the blow to the chest came once more, this time stronger than ever. We both looked away from each other, me reaching a nearby beer can and opened it with shaking hands.

"Hey Torrie, the college kids are starting up the party nearby," Dawn invited. "Wanna come?"

"Yeah, s-sure," I heard her reply shakily.

I was already gulping down the beer when Torrie stood up and walked in the middle of Jackie and Dawn towards the direction of a bright Christmas light covered shanty surrounded by beer kegs, Hawaiian plastic leis and SC and RRC college kids in bikinis and trunks, loud party music and laughter deafening Long Beach. A few seconds later Eddie, Rey, Charlie and Rob stood up and followed the girls.

I continued swallowing the half of the beer can, and when I was finished my eyes were already squinted, and I felt a brain freeze coming up. Then I belched. Loudly. Without covering my mouth.

Randy sat down beside me. "Dude! Are you all right?"

I made a face. I thought I was alone. "I just drank a beer can non-stop. So yeah, I'm feeling good."

"You're a weird guy, Cena. Always been," Randy said jokingly. "Anyway, thanks for sticking up for me that time. I thought your friends might actually stone me to death for good."

"No problem. Your former classmates actually gave them a reality check." I notified him. "And besides, Eddie said it was easy to accept you because of what he calls a tough love."

Randy batted his eyes at me. "Oh sure, John. You know how much I love you."

His silly expression made me feel quirky and disgusted at the same time. Believe me, you don't wanna see it. "Quit it before I throw up all over you."

"Are you really sure you're all right?" Randy asked again. "I mean it's not like Torrie was your first kiss or anything…"

I threw the beer can at him. "How did…how many damn eyes do you have!"

Randy ducked and laughed. "Well I know a true sucker when I see one."

"Sucker. Puh…" I snorted. "The pimp speaks."

He laughed again, then the humor died when the shindig in the shanty finally started. I rested my elbows on my knees, watching Torrie socializing with other college kids on a safe distance.

I smiled dreamily. "Ever been there before, Randy?"

Randy gave me a surprised expression. "Been where?"

"You know. There."

It took the blockhead a million years to figure out what I'm trying to say. "Oh…_there_. I see."

I nodded.

"Yeah. I've been there, done that, never going back in there again."

"Why?"

"Remember Stacy Keibler in our high school days?"

"I guess," Of course I remember. Stacy Marie Keibler, the most sought after quintessential beauty from Baltimore and Randy's first love before he switched to pimping.

Randy's blue eyes were set straight ahead. "Didn't work out."

"Man, you couldn't even complete a fluent English sentence whenever you're three feet from the girl," I said sarcastically. "What are you chances with her?"

"I know that's the problem," Randy shot back. "I've had a crush on her since our freshman year but my pride was keeping me from coming clean. I finally had the chance to tell her at prom night until I saw that Andrew Martin with his paws all over her. Trust me, I didn't like the feeling."

I pretended to cringe. "Ouch."

"I know we're not actually together-together, but it felt like I was dropped like a bad habit," Randy continued. "That was when I realized that relationships, commitment, and loyalty are just a bunch of horseshit."

I drew back a little, surprised. Randy barely talks this way. And when he talks this way, this means he's serious. And he ain't playing with no one in this kind of mood.

"You still see Stacy around, don't you?" I asked.

Randy shrugged. "Anyone who goes on Ohio Valley ends up in SC or RRC anyway, so yeah I still her. And seeing her makes me remember again and it would just leave me a bad taste in my mouth."

"Just spit it out then!" I told him, exasperated. "It's not like she's the only one you should pant for. Try the others in your place. I swear, most of your girls are just sizzling."

Randy brightened a little. "Yeah? Name one."

I began thinking. "Uh…Trish Stratus?"

"Eeeeh! Wrong! She's with Jeff Hardy now."

"What about Lita Dumas?"

"Eeeeh! Wrong again! She's with Matt Hardy this time."

"Damn, those Hardy boys are strong!" I said, overwhelmed. "What about Lilian Garcia. The girl's got a nice voice to boot."

"Nah. Not my type of girl. Too conservative," Randy said timidly. "But I did make sense on the whole relationship thing, right?"

I felt my face scrunch up. "Well, I've went out on a lot of dates and…I don't know, Randy. The way you explained everything just seemed so…_brash_."

Randy laid a hand on my shoulder. "Man, I'm just warning you. Especially now that you're with Torrie—''

I slapped his hand away. "What has Torrie had to do with your silly little brainstorms?"

"I'm just saying. You're so into her, and after this month you may end up hanging yourself rightin front of her bedroom window."

"Now, why the hell would I do that, bro?"

Randy turned away. "All girls do that!"

I cringed for real this time. Randy's looking way too serious again. We usually don't talk about male heartbreaks often.

"They flirt with you then throw you off the next!" Randy said when he noticed my perplexed expression. "I'm not a girl, for Christ's sake. I may be a toy for breaking hearts, but at least I'm not a fool. So let them come and flock loose around me. When someone gets too close around my personal space I'll let them know how it feels."

"And you're happy with that?"

"What are you, deaf? Yes!"

Hmmm. Funny, Randy's "yes" sounded more like a "no."

But deep down in my gut, Randy made a little sense. In the dating world, if they didn't like the one they meet, people end up lying and hurting others just to get rid of them. The same thing happens of the person likes them too much. When I was younger I found the whole thing ridiculous. Now I grew up, I found it as a fact, based on some personal experiences.

I looked at Randy. I couldn't really understand what he's whining about when it comes to issues like dating. The guy's so easy to admire, in fact. He's good looking, no doubt about that, not to mention talented, intelligent, and popular, wealthy, yadda yadda yadda. Any girl would just cut off their arm just to be his girlfriend.

Relationship…commitment…loyalty…

……

Then it hit me like a bucketful of cold water.

Randy just didn't want to hurt someone, or rather, got hurt by someone else. A fear of intimacy, to be exact.

Talk about a personality disorder. No wonder he acts like Hunter sometimes.

But no…this is not about Mr. RKO anymore. This is me I'm talking about.

All these happy weeks together with Torrie, why hadn't I realized this just now? Sure I care for her; I care for her a whole deal.

I looked back to where Torrie was. She was just there, enjoying herself, and I'm not even there. Was there ever a time I made her happy? Whenever our worlds would clash we both end up getting sick or battered. And I'm just talking about our physical welfare.

I don't wanna lose Torrie. God knows I don't want that.

But this wake-up call didn't even come at a better time. I felt my chest constricting, my senses failing to cooperate with me, and for the first time ever all I wanted to do was to go home to go lock myself in my room to die and rot. I raked my hair distractedly, as if trying to sweep away the subject out my head.

Randy seemed to notice my unusual actions. "Hey man, are you okay?"

"What does it look like?" I said defensively. "Of course I'm okay."

"John, you are not a very good liar." Randy nagged.

I sighed. "Look…let's just…just forget I asked you, all right? Better yet, forget everything we talked about."

"But John, I really wanted to—''

"Randy, _please_. Just forget it."

Randy drew back, looking rather offended. Then he stood up, raining sand all over me.

"All right. Fine," Randy said icily. "I'm going it the shanty and get us some beers. We both need to chill."

"Go ahead. No one's stopping you."

He said no more and walked briskly to the party area, disappearing into the growing college kids crowd. All of them were so lively, so happy, talking in different groups of people.

I really am stupid. If it wasn't for my goddamned curiosity, I would've been there, enjoying myself, and would've partied all night, knowing this was only the beginning of the summer getaway.

But after now, I really didn't feel like partying much. I was way too preoccupied on thinking about my own emotional breakdown with this Torrie situation.

And now I ask myself again—does she feel something for me other than the feeling of friendship?

If she does, when will it last?

**(t.b.c.)**

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

**Ack! I just hated doing that!**


	14. As Lovers Go

**Woah! Did I just skip a month of updating? Something is just sooo wrong with me!**

"_That party Val Venis threw last week was a major bust," Eddie muttered._

"_Yeah, everytime some chick tries to lay a finger on him his angry ex-girlfriends would come out and screw everything up." Rey agreed._

_I didn't say anything as I walked along with them to the dorm after crashing the mall that Friday noon. The two Latinos were talking about the party the RRC threw that Monday which is a total bummer. I didn't think it was a big deal anyway—more open parties will be thrown this summer. It was the heat that got them cramped and irritated. Temperature keeps getting higher day by day._

_But beside them was my unusually quiet self, oblivious, their continuing conversation sounding dead in my ears._

_Two weeks have passed since that Long Beach party happened. We already went home about three in the morning because Eddie had to drive a block more to drop Randy off to RRC. After saying all our slurred goodnights and taking care of the wet laundry was already the beginning of my rude awakening._

_While I walked I took a look around. There were still some students hanging around the campus. Most of the SC and RRC population flew back to their own states to spend time with their folks, while the other preferred to stay here, particularly the athletics division. Me, Eddie and Rey decided not to go home because of these reasons:_

_Our houses were all around California anyway;_

_It was the requirement for the athletics division to stay for the next summer training;_

_Because Torrie will be staying. Oh wait, that's my own reason…_

_No, I should stop myself. Everyday was always thinking of juvenile plans not to see her, and I knew it was wrong. Eddie and Rey didn't even try to lecture me into all my stupidity because they already knew what was going on inside my head. Randy isn't even making contacts either. Which means I'll just have to wallow in my self-pity._

_This must be the longest summer ever._

_Trying to kill all the noise around me, I hid my face with my hat and closed my eyes, remembering…_

_The long blonde hair always smelling of spices and flowers. That naturally pretty face suited for any expression. That real personality unfazed. Those light green eyes that were absolutely Torrie._

_What I definitely remembered was her smile that she always kept flashing at me, meant for me and only me. That smile she always gave me whenever I'm feeling down. That smile she always gave whatever I did. That beautiful smile…_

_If I see her right now, it will be too soon._

"_Hello John." _

_My head snapped back up, eyes opening. The three of us stopped walking as the rest of the world went back to its noisy self._

_The longed-for voice was standing right in front of me, her blonde hair shiny, her expression as cool as ice cream. She was wearing a plain blue top, a frilly white skirt down to the knees and white slippers, a far cry from my black RUCK FULES graphic tee and my usual denim throwbacks and Reeboks. We stared at each other for a few seconds._

"_Um, John? Can I talk to you?" she requested._

_Shit, I'm busted bad…_

"_Okay!" Eddie suddenly hollered. "Me and Rey are just gonna go and hang back at the dorm, all right esses? Later John."_

"_But Eddie!" Rey objected._

"_Come on Rey Rey!" Eddie hissed. "We gotta leave those two alone."_

_I turned behind me to see Eddie waving at me over his shoulder, dragging a reluctant Rey with him. I know I should be pissed at them for leaving me alone, but I had to thank them later for breaking the tension._

_When they were gone, I looked back at Torrie, her eyes down on the pavement, looking equally distracted as I was._

"_I should go," I blurted out._

_But when I started walking past her, she pulled me back, grabbing a handful of my shirt._

"_Could you please not go?" she said nervously. "I want to tell you something. Something important. Please, just hear me out."_

_Important? Sounds like a mood-turner. So I just shrugged and followed Torrie as soon as she started walking on the concrete walkway, heading to a different direction. Minutes passed._

"_We're here," Torrie wheedled. _

_When I looked up I was in a place I least expected myself to be in—in front of the girls dormitory._

"_So…" I began. "Your dorm. Why here?"_

"_It's like this," Torrie said quietly. "Most of the girls went back home for the summer so this place is almost empty. And I figured that this was the only place where I maybe I can…"_

_I wondered why she let the sentence dangle. "Where you can…what?"_

"_Where I can, uh, get you alone?"_

_I raised my brows. "Girl, I never thought you always wanted me all for yourself."_

_Torrie smiled bashfully. "Don't flatter yourself. And don't think saying tat will make you zoom me up."_

"_I don't zoom girls up," I corrected. "I don't even know what that means."_

_She giggled, looking at me over her shoulder. "Nah, you'll figure it out. Let's go?"_

"_Go? Where?"_

"_There's this place that I got to at our backyard and I thought you might be interested."_

_I nodded. "Okay. Since you interested me so bad."_

_Torrie giggled again as she walked ahead of me to the direction of the dorm backyard. AS I followed her along the grassy grounds, I started thinking: She was obviously flirting with me. Then I realized I was doing the same thing._

_Let's put it this way—she's a flirt, I'm a flirt. Heck, what a pretty song we'll make. Might as well go with the flow._

_As soon as I stopped thinking we were already at the girls' dorm backyard, surrounded with some flowerbeds and thick-leaf trees providing shade and lots of air, cooling me a little. Torrie stopped in front of a certain tree, where an old garden swing hung, made for only two people to sit on._

"_I like this swing," I found myself saying. "Besides the cracking white paint and them creaking chains, I consider them all a part of its old 50's kind of charm."_

"_Nobody ever comes here because the other girls want it renovated," Torrie explained, making punctuation marks in the air. "So I always have this swing for myself. And besides it's really airy in here."_

"_All for yourself, eh? That's pretty cool."_

_She flashed me a smile before she sat down on the swing, patting a spot next to hers._

"_Come sit with me," she offered._

_I shrugged again and sat down gratefully, the chains creaking louder. I had to admit it was really comfortable, and really airy that I almost forgot the stupid heat._

_After that, there was silence between the two of us. Imagine. We were only chatting for a while and now you could hear a pin drop. I looked at y silver Rolex. 1:00 PM._

"_John?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Can I ask you something?"_

"_Okay, I guess."_

"_Are you avoiding me?"_

_I almost fell off the swing. "Say what?"_

"_Are you avoiding me?" Torrie repeated firmly. "I just want to know why. Because I kept trying to call you but you won't answer. Just tell me."_

_I swallowed hard. Torrie looked dead serious. And looking like that made me find her difficult to answer. Now I'm busted for real._

"_Uh, I'm just in a bad funk right now," I lied. "Been into some serious shit I really can't say what. It's nothing personal."_

_Torrie didn't look like she bought it. She returned by looking straight ahead, a completely blank expression in her face._

"_Did…did I do something?" I asked._

_Silence._

_Torrie gave me a weak smile. "Oh no, not at all. Actually your answer made me feel a lot better."_

_She didn't look like she felt better. "Is that the important thing you wanted to tell me? Why did you take me here?"_

_She shrugged. "I don't know. I just come here whenever I feel messed up. I just sit down here and think about it."_

"_What are you thinking about? Cause if it is about a guy…you know. Maybe I could help beating some sense into him."_

"_I don't think that's necessary."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because you're the one I'm thinking about."_

_This time, I almost literally fell off the swing. I had the feeling of millions of goddamned butterflies fluttering in my insides. Torrie tried not to laugh at my reaction, but I kinda felt sick. In a good way, may I add._

_After recomposing myself I took off my hat, raking my thickening brown hair. "I…I don't know what to say."_

"_You think I would joke about something like that?"_

"_Kind of, maybe because people around here are such backwater mutants, always trying to hit on somebody just to laugh off and now they are just so hard to trust that's why—''_

_Torrie suddenly cut me off. With a kiss. And a very long one._

_Then suddenly my hands had a life of its own, running on her cheeks, on her neck, her shoulders down to her hip. She yanked my chains and looped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. I opened my mouth wider, and she responded without hesitating._

_Torrie obviously had experience, but of all the girls I have kissed, this one felt different. She kissed me, I kissed her back. And it felt good. So good that the rest of my dead self was suddenly brought back to life._

_Until my conscience started to nag. This wasn't supposed to happen. My hand found her shoulders as I let go of her gently. For a moment we just looked at each other, faces red and out of breath._

_And then came the shocking revelation between pants._

"_John Cena, I love you."_

_After that only one thought was summarized: FUCK. All I could do was just gawk at her._

"_I know it's silly," she continued. "I know that what happened between us at Long Beach meant nothing. But after that I couldn't stop thinking of you. You were everywhere in my head, and I really can't deny my feelings for you any longer. But don't think I'm all like your other girls. It's just that…you are just so real, you are your own person. It…it's meant to be."_

_She looked at me, hopeful. This was certainly no inside joke. If it were I would've shot everybody for bullshitting. Situations like these didn't exist in my handbook. How can Torrie be just so bald under that breath? And if she knew that much about herself, how much more on me?_

_But I had to make a decision. Either I do it now or I never do it at all. So I sighed laid both of my hands on her arms, looking at her right in the eyes._

"_Torrie," I began. "You don't need me, or any other guy to make you feel beautiful and special because you are. Trust me, you're different me from the other girls that I've met. And I just want you to know…that I will always be your boy."_

_Torrie drew back. "Only a friend, John?"_

"_That's all I have to give."_

_Her next reaction came to me unexpectedly; her eyebrows drawn together, her lips into a thin colorless line, and her green eyes were full of tears. She blinked hard to keep them all back, but she didn't look away from me. That time I felt like someone sucked all the air out of me._

"_Don't look at me like that," I begged, no matter how humiliating it is._

"_I know it sounds crazy, but I can't help it," Torrie insisted in a wobbly voice. "I'm in love with you John."_

_There was nothing I can do or say, but I certainly made a mess of things. So I just circled my arms around her and embraced her, leaving not an inch of space between our bodies. I heard her sniffling softly on my shoulder, but I just let her, rubbing her back._

_When she finally stopped sniffling, I pushed her away from me gently, taking a strand of hair out of her face. But I have to harden my heart._

"_Are you gonna be okay?" I asked, trying not to look concerned at all._

_Torrie's eyes went doe on her lap. "I'm sorry…"_

"_Don't be," I immediately said._

"_I know. I just…I just don't want you looking away from me without telling you that."_

_I ran out of her words, afraid I might just make her feel even more terrible. I placed an arm around her shoulders as she rested my head on my own shoulder, feeling her one last time._

_And then a certain memory came back to me—both of us under the sun of the parking lot, Torrie stinking of red wine as I wrapped my jacket around her, the coolness of the common room as I sat down next to her on that soft couch, and the rest of the story happened as she finally let me into her life, the same time I finally let her into my life._

_But now it's time to finally shut and bolt the door for good. _

That was a flashback.

Believe it or not, the whole thing just happened today. And I know what you're thinking—that I blew it, screwed everything up, and that I'm a big ass piss stain loser. But getting past all that, there is still one thing that I succeeded doing.

I broke Torrie's heart.

Sighing, I took off my heavy chains and my hat, throwing it somewhere on the floor, still lying in bed the whole while. I lost all the mood of changing, which meant I was still wearing the same clothes since this morning, the same shirt that Torrie bawled on about a few hours ago.

The moment rained like rocks all over me. The sight of her face near crying as she hugged me like I was her source of life. And seeing her like that had me the feeling of a much stronger guilt kicking me right in the head. After that I walked her to her dorm, smiling at me the final time as she shut the door in my face without a word, and before I did anything else I ran away from that place like a lunatic—far, far away—swearing that I'll never go back there again. And now, I'm in my room, moping my ass out.

What I definitely couldn't forget was the verge of that unexpected kiss, her strawberry lips still leaving that same sugary taste in my mouth and her intoxicating scent of spring and summer combined clinging onto me. Driving me absolutely crazy. Drawing me more to her.

But I had to end it. And it _sucks_.

I really, _really_ need to talk to somebody about this.

…

And then a known expert named Randy Orton came to mind. So I sat up from my bed, shuffled across the room, got the cordless phone out of its cradle, and walked back to my bed again. I sat down as I dialed his number, resting my elbows on my knees. Maybe he'll know what to do.

After few several rings, a sound of an answering machine came to the other line.

"Hi, you have reached the palatial suite of Randy Orton. Since you are now hearing this message it's either I'm out with friends or having sex or doing both. So here comes the beep—y'all know what to do." 

Then a beep. Why that arrogant little bastard pimp!

"Randy! I know you're in there! Pick up the phone, you piece of shit!" I yelled.

Sure enough, the piece of shit did answer. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Don't you go smarmy with me, you idiot. You know who is _this_ is. What is up with that?"

"Ah Johnny. So you have heard the wrath of my message," Randy said proudly. "You know, I may or may not mean everything that I say in there. Everyone said they love it. I think you're the only one who objected."

"I'm talking about the answering machine, dude."

"Oh, that?" he said casually. "It just so happens that some women who'd love ogling my goodies have now multiplied this summer so I installed it. But still I couldn't attend to all of their needs. After all I am only human. What would be better than being served by such fine ladies?"

I frowned. "Being dead, or anything else."

Randy laughed at my sarcasm, but there was a very loud rustling on the other line. It was really distracting.

"Am I disturbing one of your sack sessions there?" I demanded. "Man, is that what took you so long on answering? Because someone's down there ogling your goodies?"

Randy clicked his tongue. "Bad mental picture, bro. I was just dressing up."

"Hot date?"

"Better. Tonight's the concert of the Stones!"

"Oh…right." I looked at my calendar at my door. First Friday of July, where there was a note written in bold blue ink—_BIG ROLLING STONES CONCERT AT 8 PM._ How could I have forgotten that?

"Must've slipped my mind, I guess." I mumbled.

"Anyway, you'd never guess what happened to me just this morning."

"Really? What?" As much as Randy and I rarely talk on phone, this was the first time I heard a trace of excitement in his voice. So I sat up straighter, feeling a little excited myself.

"You see, I was just strolling around campus all by myself," Randy narrated. "When I reached the gardens, I saw Stacy talking to Trish and Lita into one of the school's outdoor tables. I couldn't budge as soon as I saw her."

"Oh no." Randy becomes a dumb as a stump as soon as he feels Stacy Keibler walking into his ten-foot diameter.

"Yes, that was the exact thought that I had as soon as I started feeling those awkward sensations inside of me. But I had an epiphany. I took a deep breath, relaxed myself, and walked slowly and calmly towards them where I heard just bits of their conversation. It seems to me that Stacy wants to go the Stones concert and she hated it that it was immediately sold out."

"What happened next?"

"Easy. I greeted them 'Hello ladies!' then they turned around saying 'Hi Randy!' and smiled. Told Stacy the same thing I said to you guys so I can help her and I was like okay, I understand if she didn't want to. She thought about it for a moment, and when she looked up at me, she asked me what time I should pick her up. My jaw totally dropped!"

I was surprised. "For real?"

"I am for real," Randy insisted. "So I snapped out of my hypnosis I began telling her the full details of the show and then she tells me that she is really excited. When I walked away from them, I heard her friends giggling and congratulating her. That sure didn't wipe the smile off my face!"

I smiled. "Wow. I am impressed."

"Man, can you just imagine? I finally got to ask Stacy Keibler out! Although she did say we will go out just as friends, it was really all right for me. Timing never could have been more perfect, because sources tell me tat she dumped that lummox Andrew Martin and I don't want to push things hard because she's just fresh out from a relationship. But still! I finally get to spend time with her!"

"I don't know what you're talking about but I'm glad."

"Well, I don't know why you're being polite but thanks," Randy chortled. "So now after I get dressed I will pick Stacy up from her dorm, swing by the mall to eat dinner at Sam's, and maybe get to the Staples Center an hour early so I could get all our front seat tickets. You?"

"Huh?"

"How are you going to get to the Staples? Because I called up Eddie a while ago and told me Charlie's driving Jackie and that he's taking Dawn, Rey, and RVD with him to save gas and that we'll all meet at the entrance. How about you?"

I thought for a moment. This was the Rolling Stones that we're talking about—probably the biggest one-time concert they'll ever have here. Everyone is sure to be there.

But after that disaster that had happened hours ago…I don't think I could really look at Torrie in the eye after everything that had occurred this afternoon. I could tell I would just make her feel uneasy with me up in the air, and if I don't want to ruin her night, it would mean going to the concert without me.

"Randy, I really don't think I can make it."

"What?" Randy sounded confused. "Why?"

"It's along story. You don't wanna hear it."

Silence.

"Okay, that was weird…" Randy said slowly.

I was confused myself. "What's weird?"

"Torrie actually did call me 10 minutes before you did and told me she couldn't make it either. When I asked why she said the exact same thing—that it was along story and I don't wanna hear it."

I suddenly felt nervous. Maybe Torrie has been blabbing to Randy about what happened. But I don't think it's possible, because Randy really did sound confused. So what I'm saying no appeared to him as a giant question mark

"Have you two been passing notes or something?" Randy asked, a slight edge on his voice. "What's going on, John?"

I sighed. I should just tell him the truth. "Torrie happened."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean? She came up to me, she kissed me, she told me she's in love with me. Happy?"

"Happy?" Randy echoed. "John…that's great!"

"It is?"

"Of course it is!" Randy said joyfully. "Finally! She got into you! So…what did you say to her?"

"I told her I can't," I said firmly.

Randy paused. "You did what?"

"Look! I'm scared all right! That entire hullabaloo you told me at Long Beach was true! I don't wanna hurt her!" I finalized, hoping he'll get it. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Dude! You just broke her heart!" he objected.

"Don't you think I'm aware of that?" I asked him irritably. "And what do you know about breaking hearts? Oh wait—you already know about that you do it all the time!"

Longer silence. Maybe I've gone a bit too far.

Until Randy broke it, saying something I barely hear from him.

"John, I want to apologize…"

"About what?" I said coolly.

"About everything that I said at Long Beach," Randy answered. "It was trash coming out of my mouth, I swear. All of it."

I nodded as if he was just right in front of me. "Then why did you do it?"

"Because you're allowed to feel what you feel. I'm not like that," he replied. "When I saw you and Torrie together, my failure with Stacy had gotten to me so badly that Monster Jealousy came out and destroyed everything you had. Don't get me wrong: Torrie is a nice girl. It's just that you got it totally bad, dude. When will I ever be like that?"

I didn't say anything, but I get what he's trying to say.

"Now I understand if you totally hate me now, pal," Randy said huskily. "I-I'm sorry I broke you and Torrie up."

More silence.

It got me thinking that this was what have become of Randy ever since he joined Evolution. Becoming manipulative like Hunter himself. Sometimes I want to kick him upside the head and ask him wen will he ever stand up for his own.

But then again, I couldn't blame him. We both have our own lives—I became what everyone calls a thug and he became Mr. Congeniality tied up in the short Evolution leash, a toy for them to make someone's life a living hell. And no matter how many I-told-you-so's I kept throwing at him, he is still my best friend. We know each other better more than anybody else does. And even if it all goes down to a trip to hell, nothing would ever change the tough love that associated us.

So I decided to cut him some slack, cause he owes a lot to me.

"Randy, it wasn't your fault. It was my decision and I really—''

"John, you don't have to lie. You can't even lie," Randy interrupted. "If it wasn't for you trying to will me on to Stacy I wouldn't even be talking to you right now. Trust me on this—losing something because you're afraid of having it is worse than having it then losing it. That's where all lovers go."

I couldn't help but smirk. Randy really does care, after all. I felt kinda touched, that under that arrogant SOB was still the sensitive dork that I've known for years.

"I admit I'm a fucking jerk, but you know I'm still me!" Randy explained. "Come on, man. I'm worried about you. You've been like a brother to me. And I'm trying to make it right."

"Well…what do you think is right?" I finally asked.

Randy snickered. "Forget it, dude. That is for you to answer. It's your head and your chest, not mine. Just do what you think is right for you, and I swear I won't bug you again."

"Aight. I'm down with that."

There was silence again, but this time it was a silent understanding.

"Okay, since we're already good…" I said, breaking the silence. "I'm happy that you finally hit it off with Stacy, and I'm sure both of you will have a great time with the others."

"And you'll be missed," Randy told me. "But I'm not gonna force you. Have a good night yourself, whatever it is you're or will be doing."

"Okay. Oh, and Randy?"

"Yeah?"

I grinned. "Thanks a lot for listening."

And somehow, I could just feel him smiling too. "Anytime."

The line went dead. Randy had hung up. After I clicked my phone off, I set it down my unmade bed, and than I stood up abruptly.

I have to see Torrie. And if I would be given a second chance, I won't blow it this time.

Forgetting my chains and my hat, and forgetting to close the door, I immediately went out the lobby and decided to take the fire exit stairs just to be quicker. I ran down the metal stairs, taking them two at a time.

Yes, I will see Torrie and I will tell her what I really feel. I an see it right now—she was waiting for me at her dorm porch, and when I'm finally in front of her, she will look up and smile that beautiful smile of hers, then she will kiss me and I will hold her and I will never let go…

I felt my cheeks heat up. That was only my fantasies running wild. Maybe reality could give a better one. If anything happens, there may still be time to meet Randy and the others and go to the Stones concert and have fun all night. And maybe…a chance to pick up where we both left off.

The blow to my chest came, but I consider it all a good omen.

But as I went down and down and down the stairs, what I saw next nearly scared me to death.

"Oh, motherfucker!"

**(t.b.c)**

**Okay, peeps...if you're ready to throw rocks, please do so. But please don't forget to read and review!**


	15. As Lovers Went

**Scared you, didn't I? (sinister laugh)**

**Lyrics below are from Kitchie Nadal's "Same Ground."**

**Hope you love it, 'coz I did. **

"Oh, motherfucker!"

As soon as I went down the stairs a floor down mine, Torrie was lying there, completely unconscious and her position looked as if she was trying to crawl up to the next floor. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Jesus…"

No, I should just calm down, but inside I was really freaking out. So I rushed down to her and shook her shoulders, trying to wake her up.

"Torrie? Come on, girl! Wake up, please!"

No response. She was still out cold.

I thought of the possibilities, a standard procedure Dad taught me to figure out how people get knocked unconscious.

Sexual assault?

No, her clothes still looked as neat and as orderly the last time I saw it.

A blow to head?

No, there's no sign of trauma, bumps, or blood. Which means that no one in this building attacked her.

Then her breathing began to bother me. It was a shallow. Then I notice a line of cold sweat on her forehead, and she looked deathly pale.

Then it got me—symptoms of heat exhaustion. Summer became uncomfortably stifling and half of the students who stay here are already getting the cases of it.

Scooping her unconscious body up slowly, I went up the stairs finally up to my floor, carrying her as I walked into my room.

As soon as I went inside I immediately set Torrie down on my bed, closed the door and locked it, then turned on the air conditioner. I then grabbed an extra blanket out of my closet and covered her lower body with it. I went to the bathroom, found a clean face towel, and washed it on the sink under that cold water. Then I went back to the room and sat on the chair next to the bed, turning the bedside lamp on.

I began dabbing the towel around Torrie's face. After a few consecutive tries, her skin returned to its color and her breathing went back to normal. I placed the towel over her forehead.

But instead of feeling better, I felt worse than ever.

I became an idiot for not knowing the things that has been going on inside Torrie's head. That I didn't want to know it because I didn't wish to know it. I do know that she came running back here despite the nasty weather just to see me again. She certainly would not have done so for anybody else.

Also, I became an idiot for denying the truth. That the only ting that I've done was think about myself. That I never really knew what I was trying to avoid actually came to the surface.

Worse of all, I became an idiot for breaking her heart.

Out of the light the lamp was providing, it reflected on Torrie's face, sleeping peacefully as she is. What more if she wakes up and notices me? Seeing that same face sneer would just be too much for me. It would only take one look—one look of her turning away from me and I would just kiss her goodbye.

Another thought saddened me more: I haven't even kissed her hello yet.

All of a sudden I felt my own breathing becoming shallow. And then something strange happened—my face was becoming wet.

Tears. As if they came from another one's eyes.

Fuck it. At this point I hate myself even more now. I never cried before, and then I remember the first time I made Torrie cry. If I tell her what I really feel after all the mess that I've made, I wouldn't blame her if she marked me for the rest of our lives.

But before anything else, the next words that will be coming out of my mouth are definitely from the heart.

"I'm sorry, Torrie," I whispered, wishing she would hear me. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you…"

I couldn't take it anymore so I buried my face in my arms, trying hard to console myself.

…

_My love, it's been a long time since I cried and left you out of the blue_

_It's hard leaving you that way when I never wanted to_

_Self-denial is a game it's strange I never would've wanted_

'_Til there was you_

_Cause I have learned that love is beyond what human can imagine_

_The more it clears the more I gotta let you go_

…

"John?"

I stopped myself. Was that…?

"John, is that you?"

I counted from one of ten, slowly looked up, and felt like I was seeing a dream, making me sit up straighter.

Torrie was awake, sitting up in my as she looked at me. Her expression made her look like she was really sick, but it was really a mixture of joy, shock, and curiosity. But despite all that, she still looked so beautiful she took my breath away, even in the dimness of that lamp.

…

_But now I don't understand why I'm feeling so bad now_

_When I know it was my idea_

_I could've just denied the truth and lied_

_Why am I the only one standing stranded on the same ground?_

…

Something changed in the room.

Suddenly a look of concern crossed Torrie's face. "Oh my God, John…have you been crying? What's the matter?"

It was so like her to forget the way I treated her. Before she said anything else, I began my confession. And I don't want to sound so movie-like, so I already went ahead.

"I love you Torrie… I just want you."

…

_My love, it's been a long time since I cried and left you out of the blue_

_It's hard leaving you that way when I never wanted to_

_Self-denial is a game it's strange I never would've wanted_

'_Til there was you_

_Cause I have learned that love is a word that gets thrown a bit too much_

_The best excuse to fill this infinite abyss_

_That I would never ever have to fill_

…

I lowered my eyes. There. I finally said it. Now I'm ready for next merciless outburst.

But I was definitely not ready for was the feeling of her hand touching my face. I looked up at her hopefully, and thank the gods…she was smiling at me.

"Oh John," she said, and then she threw herself into my arms for the second time. "I have always been here…just waiting for you to say that."

I didn't respond; I just hugged her tightly, inhaling her sweet scent, overwhelmed by the feeling of missing her. Everyone says that talk is cheap, but the declaration of love is comforting. Then I realized that this was already happiness.

…

_But now I don't understand why I'm feeling so bad now_

_When I know it was my idea_

_I could've just denied the truth and lied_

_Why am I the only one standing stranded on the same ground?_

…

When I let go of her, I leant my forehead to hers, seeing happy tears pooling in her eyes. Our faces were so close I could just feel her breath. Shutting off the doubts one final time, I diminished the gap between our mouths.

It took Torrie a while to finally respond. I tried to kiss her as gently as possible as I pulled her closer. She raked my brown hair, her lips never leaving mine.

"Stay here with me," I whispered hoarsely between kisses.

"Please," she pleaded. "Be gentle,"

And be gentle I was. I grasped her wrists, pinning her down to my bed, my whole body covering hers. I shifted a bit, taking off my shirt and throwing it carelessly down the floor. I bent down and kissed her again, the n my lips went on her cheeks, her jaw, and finally on her neck. I caressed her smooth skin, my hands currently somewhere under her top, making her moan softly.

This was almost going way too far. Torrie was ruggedly breathing now and she became more frantic, pushing down my jeans while scraping her fingers along my back, leaving a trail of red on its wake.

…

_If all else fail, would you be there to love me?_

_When all else fail, would you be brave to see right through me?_

…

Mind you—this is my first time to have sex.

And to my trusty four walls…I hope you won't tell anyone.

**(t.b.c.)**

**Don't forget to read and review:P**


	16. A Surprise From Haylie

**Oh! I'm so happy so many reviewed! In case you're wondering, I'm twice as glad that John and Torrie have finally gotten together! Anyway, did everyone hear the news that Billy Kidman got fired from WWE? LOL! More for Johnny! LOL! Jokes!**

**Lately, I've been thinking that when I finished this story, I've been going on back and forth on whether I should have a sequel to this or not. If I would, though, another major twist will occur. Review and tell me if you guys agree, and ideas and suggestions are also very welcome.**

**For the meantime…Enjoy! Chain Gang rocks! Ü**

…

After a long night sleeping like a rock with interesting dreams, I was finally awake.

But I didn't open my eyes. I felt like there was someone hovering over me.

Bothered, I slowly opened my eyes into narrow slits, trying not to open it. Everything was blurred, but because of the morning light gradually creeping in my room, I could just make out everything in its familiar shapes and sizes.

And speaking of shapes and sizes, a hazy, unfocused figure of Torrie was leaning down at me, staring, looking fascinated.

I smirked inwardly. So last night wasn't a dream after all. Last night was definitely something to remember—I remembered every detail sharp. Not only that, I experienced it with my very first love. Ahem…

Then I decided to surprise her. "Torrie…stop staring at me while I'm asleep."

I heard a quiet gasp. Not taking it anymore, I let out a small chuckle and opened my eyes. I saw her sitting down at the edge of the bed, her surprised expression saying it all.

"You scared me!" she complained.

"I can't help it," I said, still chuckling.

Torrie snorted a little while I rubbed my eyes, my vision becoming clearer, then I stretched my torso. She wrapped her arms around her legs, and as I noticed, she was wearing my black shirt, the same one that I wore yesterday.

"I like that," I told her. "You look great in my shirt."

Torrie rolled up its sleeves. "I do, don't I? That saves me from finding my top," Reaching something behind her, she handed me my boxers at arm's length.

I grabbed it reluctantly, hiking up the blankets higher on my bare chest. "You want me to dress up _now? _I thought you already saw all of me last night!"

Torrie giggled, watching me slip my lazy ass into my boxers while still lying in bed the whole while. Then she lied back down beside me, resting a hand on my chest. We stared at each other for a while.

"You know…I don't do this," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I can tell."

As soon as I said those words another surprised expression crossed on Torrie's features, sending me into fits of laughter.

"I was kidding, Torrie," I got out. "I mean, last night…last night was just heaven, girl. You just have to take my word for it."

She smiled with relief and slapped me playfully on the shoulder. "You sweet-talker, you. You're such an assclown."

"I know. Nice one, ain't it?"

Torrie giggled again, her smile making me jelly. Then she leaned toward me and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. After a few seconds she sat up, but before she could even get off my bed I grabbed her wrist. She turned back to me, a blank look on her face.

I raised a brow. "Seriously, girl. You've got to be kidding. "You call _that_ a kiss?"

"John…"

I sat up abruptly. "You think that's supposed to last me the whole day? Nah, I think I deserve better."

I brought my lips to hers, to show her what I had in mind. Plying her with soft, teasing kisses until she kissed me back. Torrie reached for my arms and pulled it around her neck, making me fall back to my pillow. I ran my hands all over her back, preparing to take off my shirt covering her body.

All of a freakin' sudden, the cordless phone on the bedside table rang loudly, startling and freezing us into our current position.

Torrie looked at the phone, then back at me. "Aren't you gonna get that?"

"Oh…all right. Hold up."

I scowled, while Torrie fell down and laid her head on my shoulder. I reached for my phone, wondering where the inane person got the nerve to call me up right now.

"Yo?"

"Hi John! It's Haylie."

"Haylie?" I echoed. It seemed like ages when I last talked to my sister. I couldn't help feeling happy. "Haylie! Hey girl! What's happening?"

"Is this a bad time?" she asked apprehensively.

"Well, I am kind of busy," I replied.

"It's nine in the morning."

"Whatever. Still busy."

Haylie laughed. "I definitely don't wanna know. So! How is summer there?"

"Too hot. Just generally sickening and uncomfortable."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, because have I got a surprise for you!"

My grip on the phone got a little tighter, a sinking feeling in my gut. "What is it?"

I heard her titter again. "Our big weekend together! I convinced Dad and Elsa on a three-day vacation on Hawaii and I'll have the house for myself, and you'll get to come over right now. Isn't that cool or what?"

Or what, I wanted to say. Great didn't even cover it. At first I felt weak in the knees when Haylie popped the subject of coming over right now for the weekend, but it was replaced by burning curiosity after saying that she 'convinced' Dad and Elsa for a vacation a gazillion miles away from the comforts of the house that they designed themselves for them to exist.

Strangest part, though…Haylie _never_ convinces. Ever.

"The thing is, I really am busy right now," I countered desperately. "I have to get ready for this summer training in August. I have to help with the new recruits' initiation. I was kind of expecting—''

"What do you expect?" Haylie interrupted. "You and I planned this a few months ago, remember? I already gave you the chance by letting them go on business trips and leaving me here alone without having to contact you all the time. The way this thing is heading, you might as well just come over for Christmas. I thought you _wanted_ to visit."

"I do, but—''

"No buts! They will leave as soon as you come over, and they'll be taking me if you didn't."

Great. There's definitely no way I'll ever get out of this. I couldn't leave Torrie now, after we'd finally just gotten together. Maybe in a few weeks. Or months. Or years, even.

"It's just that—''

"Don't think it was easy hooking both our 'rents. Yesterday Elsa was grocery shopping non-stop for today, and Dad whines about you always not being around for the summer."

Suspicion crept up within me again. As soon as I started joining varsity teams, both Dad and my stepmom never really minded my frequent absences every summer. It just seemed like their habit to just let me go without second thoughts. Also, it seemed impossible for Haylie herself to lie about it just to make me come to her because she never lies at all, being the honest loudmouth she was born to be, What's more stranger about it was still the subject of Haylie actually hooking them up like carp.

Haylie was, no doubt, definitely up to something unnatural.

"You still do want to come over, right?" Haylie asked, sounding less sure of herself. "I mean, I know it's quite a ride—LA to San Diego. But I just want some company. I'm sick of being alone here. It's too boring."

"I know."

"I guess I thought you'd be a little more excited."

"I am," I said, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world.

"So…are you coming over?"

I thought for a moment. Forget all the weirdness that was going on—chances like these don't drop by very often. And I did make a promise…

"All right. I'll come over," I finally said. "Count me in."

"Really! That's so awesome!" Haylie cried. "It would be great to have you back here!"

"I hope so," I said weakly.

"I promise it will! Ah, I couldn't wait! I have to tell Dad right now. Bring some friends if you want. I have no problem whatsoever of getting too crowded! Fabulous!"

"Yup. Damn straight."

"Right. It'll be great to see you again. Later John!"

"Later."

Then I hung up the phone and groaned loudly. "Aw man…"

"Is something wrong, John?" Torrie asked beside me, propping up to one elbow. "Who was that?"

I turned to face her, a complete look of concern on her features. I was so preoccupied on the thoughts of getting out of this situation I almost forgot that Torrie was just right here, right by my side.

"My sister, Haylie," I answered, sitting upright. "You are not gonna believe this, but I have to go back home to San Diego."

"_What_? No!" She sounded horrified as I expected. "When will you be leaving?"

"This afternoon. I'm gonna be staying there for the weekend."

After saying that I thought I heard Torrie take a long deep breath. And then she started to laugh.

"Is that all?" she managed to say. "Geez John…I thought you were moving!"

"_Moving_? That's not even funny!" I shot back, imagining how worst that could be. "I don't even get why you're laughing."

"Relief," she said, quieting down. "You'll still be spending Fourth of July here, right? I heard Steve Austin's gonna be throwing this beer bash where he'll be giving out free Buds, and it's an SC/RRC open party to celebrate."

I raked my hair, frustrated. "Now I'm more tempted not to go."

"No! Go!" Torrie insisted. "She's family, and its only for three nights anyway. If you want to amuse her, why don't you try bringing Eddie, Rey, or even Randy?"

"That was the plan," I muttered. "Bring them all and she'll be like seeing another version of The Full Monty. I need a plan."

"Well, what do you suggest? Stay here all day and make out?"

I smirked. "Just an idea."

Torrie smiled knowingly. "Just try enjoying yourself for once. I can entertain myself. Besides, what's going on your mind now would probably be letting me come with you, and it's just not possible. Not that I don't want to, but I don't think your sister will be warming up to the idea of a new girl waltzing around in her house. She might as well be chasing me around with a chainsaw with her."

I had to admit Torrie had a point. Bringing her would mean spending more time with her and less time for Haylie, which would cause serious trouble. Besides, it was already done once, if you know what I mean.

"See, where you went wrong was with the all day part," Torrie told me with a mischievous grin. "If you had proposed, say, staying here and make out for the next half hour, then I'd have been your girl."

"You would have, huh?" I said with a laugh.

She leaned in closer. "Just try me."

**(t.b.c.)**

**What do you think of that! Don't forget to review! Thanks:p**


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